Knight in Silent Armor
by Lilly-Belle
Summary: Simply put, Ferb was always there for her. But with a premise so simple, Isabella would never understand how it grew into this... A nine-shot story for Spazzumtard's 2017 Fic Exchange.
1. Twelve

_Hello everybody!_

 _This procrastinator was waiting until the the very last posting day for the 2017 Valentine's Day Ferbella Fic Exchange, hosted by Spazzumtard, our great and glorious queen._

 _ **This story is a gift for none other than Spazzumtard herself!** And for our Ferbella leader, I wanted to do something extra special! So I shot myself in the foot and took on a project that was probably a crazy poor decision, considering this fic exchange only spanned a couple weeks; but instead of a one-shot, I wrote a nine-shot story, over 140 pages long! All for our beloved Spazz!_

 _While today, the 21st, was the deadline for posting the fic exchange, she made a special exception for this story, since it's nine chapters. I am posting the first today (obviously) and will be posting each consecutive chapter every 2-3 days (no more than 3), so it should be finished completely in the next three weeks! (Hence why I have been slacking on updating my other stories)._

 _A couple things before you read:_

 _I wrote this story as a tribute to_ Man of Action. _I enjoy that story a lot, and since this was a gift for Spazzumtard, I wrote in Spazz's style of showing Isabella and Ferb's relationship develop through the years. Therefore, each of the nine chapters will be a day-in-the-life one-shot of Isabella at each consecutive age, as indicated by the chapter title._

 ** _The prompt:_** _"Isabella realizes she always goes and always will go to Ferb for comfort for everything even when it's not about Phineas and his obliviousness. Bad hair day? Ferb. Sick and/or hurt? Ferb. Pinky missing? Ferb. (just examples. Not to be used in the story unless your muse says so.)"_

 _And... like I said... I definitely got a bit carried away. I 100% promise I tried to only write, like, 20 pages, tops! Then a hundred or so more pages crept into there while I wasn't looking..._

 _Regardless, I did a lot in this fic that I've never done before: poetry and, believe it or not, it's relatively angst-free (comparatively speaking, because I write a LOT of angst)._

 _Special thanks to Foodluver8 for encouraging me to keep pumping out a whole new 15-page chapter every two days; without her cheering me on, I don't think I would have finished this monster on time._

 _Enjoy the Ferbella cuteness!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

TWELVE

* * *

It was during third period that it happened: Isabella felt like she was going to _die._ She didn't know what the heck kicked her in the stomach or why, but she could die. Literally. Right here in this chair.

A groan keeled from her mouth as she slumped over on her desk—a groan that unfortunately garnered attention from her teacher.

"Isabella?" Ms. Farlow asked. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

The nurse. Yes, that sounded good. She couldn't bear just sitting here as her insides squeezed and slowly churned over.

Oh god, Isabella wasn't sure she could move.

"Phineas, would you make sure she makes it there okay?" her teacher added, and that, at the very least, made Isabella feel better. _Phineas_ would be escorting her? He was like her knight in shining armor!

"Yeah, of course," Phineas said, taking her elbow, and she slowly stood. The pain ebbed a little bit, but she still felt so, _so_ icky.

"Hey, are you okay?" Phineas asked as soon as they were in the hall and she nodded mutely.

As he walked her to the nurse, Phineas chattered on about how he hoped she would feel better before this afternoon, since he had a huge project planned for after school; and for some reason this made Isabella really, _really_ mad.

Like, scary mad. She really wanted Phineas to just shut up, and she had literally _no_ idea why. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong, and she really did love him. He was just being _Phineas_ , nothing more and nothing less.

When they made it to the nurse's office, she promised to see him at lunch and strolled in alone. The sharp, stabbing feeling was gone, but she still felt crappy. When she told the nurse what was happening, she smiled with pity and recommended Isabella use the bathroom.

That was when realization struck.

Isabella's eyes grew wide, understanding the nurse's meaning even before the woman grabbed something out of a cabinet and held it out to her: a small white package. With dread, Isabella realized she would need it.

As she took those heavy few steps to the bathroom, she tried to remember everything her mother had told her about this. But it didn't make any sense, because if this was supposed to last a _few days?_ Every single _freaking month?_ Isabella didn't understand how the female race survived.

When she made it into the stall, it was confirmed. _Great._

She wished her mom was here, but even if she convinced the nurse to send her home, she knew her mom would never let her hang out with Phineas after school if she went home sick. Isabella _did not_ want to miss out on an opportunity to see Phineas! Each time she did brought him one step closer to liking her back, she was sure of it!

She sat in the nurse's office until the end of the period, nibbling on some saltine crackers while the nurse asked her if she had any questions. Isabella continued to stare on, silently shaking her head.

She thought this day would mark some kind of transformation for her. Like, she would suddenly feel grown up once this started. Adyson had been so smug when she'd started hers last year, like it was something to be proud of! Instead, Isabella wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Once lunch rolled around, the nurse encouraged her to go eat. With a solemn nod of her head, Isabella made her way to the cafeteria. She easily spotted Phineas and Ferb—Ferb was so tall and his green hair was a beacon—and she made her way over.

"Hey, Isabella, I grabbed your backpack!" Phineas told her cheerfully. "Did you find out what's wrong?"

Isabella reclaimed her bag from him, but she kept her gaze resolutely glued to the ground as she shrugged.

"Tummy troubles. They're not sending me home."

Phineas nodded. "You were probably hungry! Let's get you some food."

"I just want to sit down," Isabella grumbled, slouching down on the bench at the lunch table, and Phineas shot off toward the food line.

"I'll get you something," he called back, and he was gone before Isabella could tell him she wasn't really hungry. How was it possible, she wondered, to feel so starving but have literally no appetite? She was dizzy—probably hungry, like Phineas had said—but the idea of eating any of the cafeteria food made her nauseous.

From the other side of the table, Ferb nudged her foot with his own, and when she looked up at him, his head lilted to the side.

"I'm okay," she groaned, burying her face in her arms.

Phineas was back with food a minute later, and Isabella stared on at the tray with total indifference. He'd gone for healthier options: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some fruit and veggies. Usually she'd have no problem with it, but… _ick._

She buried her face in her arms again—and that was when the sharp pains came back. It felt like someone taken her gut in their first and _twisted._ Thank goodness her troop had a different lunchtime, or they would figure her out immediately. As it was, she couldn't help but whimper.

"You've got to eat," Phineas insisted. "The nurse would've sent you home if it was a bug, right? So try eating something."

She shook her head. "Not hungry."

At least, she _wasn't._ Until she smelled something like chicken broth. Her head shot up just in time to see Ferb unscrewing the lid of the thermos he'd brought from home. She could see the soup inside, and she almost drooled.

Oh man, she wanted _that._ That, specifically. Because her freaking insides were apparently on revolt right now!

Ugh, being a girl _sucked._

When Ferb noticed her staring, he froze halfway through lifting his first bite. His gaze flicked from her to the soup, there and back again, and she quickly looked away. He didn't need her ogling his food.

Suddenly the thermos was in front of her, and Isabella's eyes snapped up in time to see Ferb pulling her food tray toward him. He lifted the PB&J and gestured to her with it, his small nod seeming to say, _go on._

Isabella didn't even bother with feeling bad; she lifted the little plastic spoon and started scarfing the soup down. Chicken and rice… _yes,_ this was _exactly_ what she needed!

"I thought you said you weren't hungry," Phineas muttered, scratching his head, but Isabella didn't stop eating long enough to respond.

"Ferb made that soup a couple nights ago," he continued after a moment when no one answered him. "It's good right?"

"It's _perfect,_ " Isabella gushed. "I didn't think I'd be able to eat, but it's _so_ good! I wish I could have it for dinner, too."

"Oh man," Phineas sighed. "We'd run some over to you, but I think that was last of the leftovers, right, Ferb?"

The older brother nodded his head in confirmation… and suddenly Isabella felt like she was going to cry. Holy crap, that came on so fast! And the fact that it was completely irrational only made her even more upset!

"But you're coming over anyway, right?" Phineas asked. "I had an idea for this laser tag mirror maze structure with artificial gravity so you can—"

" _Phineas_ ," Isabella snapped, "I just don't know!"

She was just about ready to slam her head against the table the moment it came out of her mouth. She hadn't meant to bark at him! She was just so—so _irritated_ with him today, even if she wasn't sure why. He'd been so nice, he definitely didn't deserve it; but literally everything he did and said right now rubbed her the wrong way.

She drained the last of the soup and pushed the empty thermos back to Ferb. She figured the last thing she needed right now was to be around others. She didn't want to bite poor Phineas' head off again, and she still felt like she was going to cry.

The moment she went to stand up, a whole new wave of cramps hit her, and she sat down hard. She couldn't help the pained expression that flashed on her face, but she managed to catch it after only a second and replace it with a neutral look. Her insides were _screaming_ right now, but as much as she felt like she was dying, she thought she would literally die if Phineas found out what was happening.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, and she nodded mutely.

Ferb, meanwhile, had frozen just before taking a bite. He was staring at her with wide eyes, and he was uncharacteristically pale. His jaw dropped, and she was so worried about being figured out that she rushed away from the table.

God, this was so embarrassing.

She went to the very far back corner of the library and was thankful there was at least one unoccupied couch. She curled up on her side, closed her eyes, and resigned to waiting for lunch to be over.

At least, that was what she was doing until she felt someone poke her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find Ferb leaning over her.

 _Oh no…_ He'd totally figured it out, she could see it.

"Oh please, Ferb, spare me this humiliation," she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

He didn't say anything—not that that was weird for him. Instead, he poked her shoulder again. This time when she looked up at him, his hand was held out. In the center of his palm were a few pills.

Isabella shot up, eyeing the gift. Not even the school nurse had given her any medicine! Schools were so weird about doing that sort of stuff these days. She snatched up the pills and popped them in her mouth. She chugged some water from her water bottle, and took solace in the fact that the agony would lessen significantly in about twenty minutes.

It was a start.

"Thanks," she mumbled, staring intently at her feet.

She thought that would be the end of it—Ferb had done what he'd come here to do, after all—but instead he took a seat next to her. He pulled his thermos out of his bag, and she didn't understand why he offered it to her; she'd finished all the soup inside, after all.

Then she touched it. It was _so warm!_ It heated her hands through, just holding it! She opened it up, and saw… was that water? Blistering water, the boiling kind that they put aside for the kids who brought noodle cups that needed hot water. No wonder the thermos was so warm!

"What's this for?" she asked. She'd burn her tongue beyond repair if she tried to drink it.

For the first time, Ferb looked a little uncomfortable. His cheeks turned pink, but still he held her gaze as he gestured to her stomach. He wanted her to… _oh._ Isabella quickly resealed the lid and brought the warm container against her abdomen.

After only a minute, Isabella sighed and flopped over onto his arm.

"Oh my god, Ferb, thank you so much!"

The only way she could tell he nodded was that she could feel the movement as she lied against him. She wanted to stay curled around the warm thermos and never ever ever move again.

She could do that, right?

But the warning bell rang. She had seven minutes to make it to her next class. It just so happened to be a geometry test, and Isabella was _definitely_ not in a testing mood.

"This was your first time," Ferb guessed when she stood up, and Isabella froze. She wasn't sure she actually heard him right, but then he said, "I hear it's not quite so bad from here on out. The first always hits you the worst."

Isabella's mind was on overload, and she turned on him sharply.

"I—you—I can't talk to you about this sort of stuff, Ferb! You're a _boy!"_

He raised his eyebrow, and the look he gave her was downright incredulous.

"We're friends."

And the fact that his voice cracked on the word _friends_ was the only thing that thawed Isabella's embarrassment.

Maybe… maybe Ferb was feeling just as awkward right now, too. She'd noticed his voice cracking more than once the past couple days, after all. Phineas had been teasing him about it, but she hadn't. Honestly, she'd been busy imagining how Phineas would sound after his voice dropped, but now she was happy she hadn't teased Ferb. He wasn't teasing her, either.

"I feel like death, Ferb," she admitted as she sat back down. "I feel horrible and I can't let Phineas find out but I want to hang out with him and this thermos helps but I can't walk around holding it to my stomach all day, that'd be too obvious and I feel like I'm going to cry and I'm cramping again and _oh my god!_ "

She careened over into his shoulder again and let herself revel in a long, irritated groan. She didn't know what it was about ranting, even when nothing could be done to change anything, but it helped almost every time. At least now she felt like she would make it through the day.

After a minute, Ferb began to stand, and she sat up so he could. He pulled his hoodie off over his head, and she didn't think anything of it until he held it out to her. She was too confused to move at first, so he tapped his watch and held the hoodie out to her a little more adamantly: warming them they could be late.

Isabella wasn't sure what he was getting at, but she stood and slid his hoodie on over her head. It was big on her, no doubt, but at least it smelled good. It smelled like _Ferb._

Ferb took the thermos from where she'd left it on the couch and tucked it in the big pocket on the front—oh dear lord, _yes._ She could feel the warmth even though the fabric, and this would be perfect for when she was in class. No one would see it and wonder why she was cradling a thermos to her stomach.

"Oh my god, Ferb, _thank you!"_ she cried as she threw her arms around him, and she felt him pat her back.

Honestly, Isabella wasn't sure there was anyone who could have made this as minimally awkward as Ferb had. Don't get her wrong; this was awkward. But she was so glad Ferb had figured it out, because he'd really saved her butt! Once those meds kicked in… Oh yeah. Isabella couldn't wait.

They took off to their different classes, and Ferb parted ways in the bustling halls with a silent, two-fingered solute. Just like that. Just whoosh, save her life, and gone again. He was like a freaking super hero.

After school, Isabella walked to where she usually met Phineas and Ferb at the bus stop. She was doing much better after that medicine remedied the worst of the pain. She was still in a sour mood, but she would just have to deal with that. She needed to apologize to Phineas, too. It wasn't cool of her to randomly bite his head off, even if she hadn't been feeling the best.

Stupid hormones.

"Hey Isabella!" Phineas called out when he saw her, waving like mad, as if they didn't meet in the same place every day and she hadn't already seen them. But that was Phineas for you, and she shook her head.

"Hey, Phineas." Might as well get if over with. "Sorry I was harky-barky earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you."

Phineas laughed. "Oh, it's fine. You're not feeling well, I get it."

Well, that was a relief. She didn't think he'd dwell on it—it was _Phineas,_ after all—but she'd still felt bad. She flashed Ferb a smile as they climbed onto the bus and she said, "I'm doing a lot better than I was at lunch."

"Great!" Phineas beamed. "That means you're still coming over, right?"

Isabella chewed her lip. She wanted to, mostly because she really hated the idea of turning down an opportunity to spend time with him. But she also felt that growing, irrational irritation building within her, and she _really_ didn't want to snap at him again. She was on a short fuse when it came to his usual antics today, it seemed.

"I don't know," she said as they all sat down. Usually kids sat two to a row, but Phineas, Ferb, and she always managed to squeeze all three of them on a seat.

"Alright," Phineas responded. "Well we should work on homework now, just in case. I want as much time to work on my idea as possible, you know?"

He grabbed their English book from his backpack and flipped it over to their current chapter, pencil poised in his hand to take notes, and Isabella stared at him.

She hated that everything he did annoyed her today. Stupid, _stupid_ puberty. She loved Phineas! She really didn't like this sinking, triggering feeling that his usual comments created. If she needed to avoid him every time her time of the month came around, she would be in for a long, _long_ life! Especially since she wanted to marry him! It was something she'd just have to get over.

Isabella slumped back in the seat, feeling depressed. She had precisely zero motivation to start her homework now, but Phineas was already pounding away at his, and she didn't have the heart to interrupt (and maybe, with her emotions being all over the place today, it was best that he was distracted). It wouldn't be the same if Phineas figured it out like Ferb had. She wouldn't be able to handle it!

Ferb nudged her with his elbow, and when she turned her sunken frown on him, he smiled sheepishly. It was a strange expression for his usually placid face, and she didn't understand it until he retrieved something else from his backpack.

Admittedly, when she saw it, she _did_ cry. In part out of sheer disbelief. Mostly out of gratitude. He was holding a bar of dark chocolate he must have retrieved from the vending machine.

She quickly wiped at her eyes before Phineas could notice and took the square of chocolate he offered her. She didn't know if chocolate actually helped with all this hormonal stuff or if that was just some myth, but she knew it sure as heck couldn't hurt.

They rode the rest of the way home in mutual silence: Phineas working, Ferb dishing out crack chocolate one square at a time, and Isabella sucking on each one until it melted on her tongue.

Perhaps the whole chocolate thing wasn't a myth… it certainly made her feel better.

When they made it home, Isabella parted ways with the others. She'd agreed to come back over and help Phineas with his project, but she wanted to get her history homework done first. That, and she needed some time to breathe.

Mama freaked out when Isabella told her. She was the only child, after all; her mom wanted to throw a freaking _party_ about "crossing a threshold" but all Isabella wanted to do was bury her head in her pillow.

Her mom thought it was _amazing_ that this had happened only a few weeks after her bat mitzvah. Isabella, however, thought it was a cruel joke of fate. She bolted to the kitchen as soon as she could pry herself out of her mother's arms.

She heated some water up in the microwave to a boiling point and put it in Ferb's thermos. She slid it back into the pocket, and sighed in bliss at the heat. It was almost funny; maybe it was a good thing Phineas was so oblivious. Seriously… he didn't even question why she'd been wearing his brother's hoodie all day.

Oh shoot! A hoodie she was currently still wearing!

Well, Ferb would just have to be okay with her giving it back later.

With her homework done, she made her way back across the street. She would have to be patient. When she started feeling frustrated for stupid reasons, she'd just need to breathe. If worst came to worst, she could see if they had a secret stash of chocolate somewhere.

When Linda let her in, Isabella was surprised to find Phineas dragging some blankets to the living room.

"What happened to the laser tag mirror maze?" she asked as she trailed behind him, and Phineas peeked his head up from over the pile of blankets.

"Oh hey, Isabella! Ferb said we should postpone that since you were feeling under the weather. We're having a movie night instead. Mom and Dad had a couple they wanted to watch. Is that okay?"

Was it _okay?_ Isabella _so_ did not feel capable of running around in some big maze with artificial gravity today… That was beyond okay!

"Mom made spaghetti," Phineas added on in an afterthought—and Isabella's spirits plunged again. She didn't want to be rude, but her appetite had been scrambled and then tossed out the door entirely.

"And it's just about ready," Linda said as she poked her head around the corner. "Isabella, dear, would you mind setting the table?"

With Phineas getting all the blankets set up, Isabella went into the kitchen and put plates and forks around the table. She could smell the spaghetti and it made her stomach flip. Usually she loved Linda's cooking, but tonight? Yeah…

"Hey, Ferb," she said when she noticed him by the stove. He turned when he heard her, gave a small wave, then went back to whatever he was doing. After a minute, he grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and poured— _was that soup?_

Isabella was out of her chair and by his side in no time at all, gaping at what he held.

"Did you make soup for me?" she asked, her voice shaking, and Ferb looked alarmed. He was probably afraid she would start crying on him again—and she very well could because he'd made _soup_ for her, and she _loved_ soup, and oh god, she couldn't handle how nice that was!

He nodded before walking the soup over to the table. He put it down in her usual spot and glanced down at her, his eyes lingering on her torso. It took her a moment to realize why, but of course she was still wearing his hoodie! The thermos was still tucked inside.

"Can I wear it?" she blurted out. "Just a little longer. I've still got the thermos, and, well…"

She trailed off, but she didn't need to actually finish the statement because he was nodding again. Thank goodness Ferb wasn't really bothered by much. She needed that right about now.

Dinner was uneventful, and she was totally ready for a night of curling up and watching movies! She supposed she owed Ferb for changing that plan up, too. This was _so much_ better than before.

Linda and Lawrence took the couch while Phineas put the movie in. Ferb sat in that glorious mountain of blankets Phineas had created, and everything in Isabella's brain told her _yes:_ a mountain of blankets was exactly where she wanted to be!

This probably should have embarrassed her more than anything else that day, but Isabella dropped down over Ferb's legs like a bag of wet cement. She was draped over his lap like a cat, and she didn't even care as she let that thermos press against stomach and hugged an armful of blankets to herself.

"Uh, Isabella?" came his quiet voice, and Isabella was quick to respond.

"I know I'm cranky and tired and weird, but you're warm and _blankets_ and—gosh darn it, Ferb, just let me lie here!"

He didn't say anything else, and he didn't move either. She took that as a good sign as she snuggled up a little bit more.

The whole reason she'd come over was to spend more time with Phineas; and she _had_ , during dinner. But now that she was lying here, a whole different story started taking shape. It was one in which the mindless sound of the television filtered in before fading to a blur, and her eyelids grew heavy.

It was _exhausting,_ growing up.

When, after a couple minutes, she felt Ferb's fingers slowly drift through her hair, she finally allowed her eyes to close completely a content hum escaped her throat; and when that apparently encouraged Ferb to comb through her hair more, Isabella was in heaven.

This was what every girl needed at a time like this: to be a little pampered. Oh, she was all for this.

Her world was finally calming back down, and truth be told, she was asleep before she could even tell you what the movie was about.

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed chapter one, Spazz! Age thirteen will be coming at you in a couple days (hehe, it's like the gift that keeps on giving!)_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	2. Thirteen

_Our dearest darling Spazzumtard_

 _Accept this from your loyal bard!_

 _For your delight, i worked so hard:_

 _A chapter in which Ferbella starred!_

 _... ... ..._

 _Hah, this is what happens when I CANNOT_ _frickin sleep and decide to post at two in the morning (yaaaaay insomnia). To those who are following, welcome! Thank you so much for the interest you've taken in my story! As I promised, here is chapter two, a whopping two days after chapter one!_

 _Man, this posting pace is insane; but at least this is an_ immensely _fun story to write!_

 _Witness the cute awkwardness of adolescent drama and enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

THIRTEEN

* * *

Isabella collapsed on the stairs as she burst into tears.

"Isa, Mija, it's not so bad!" her mom tried to tell her. "Mírame, look at me baby, I can hardly see it at all!"

Her mom was lying to make her feel better, and Isabella knew it. The truth was it was bad. _Really_ bad. Like, evening-completely-ruined level of bad.

Her beautiful, meticulously picked baby pink dress, with its pretty ribbon at her bust and a pink, lacy skirt… now had salsa spilled down its front. As in, a red stain all the way from her chest to her knees. Her dress was _ruined._

She'd been so careful, too! She'd done her hair and makeup in her bathrobe and she'd purposefully avoided eating anything. Isabella was not one to tempt fate. Eating red salsa in her dress? Not worth the risk.

But of course, she'd turned the corner right at the same time her mom had. And of course her mom was holding a fresh batch of her delicious homemade salsa. The spill had been catastrophic.

"Oh, mama, what do I do?" Isabella wailed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I can't even go now! I—I can't!"

It was the eighth grade formal, the very first dance in her schooling history! She was due to meet up with Phineas, Ferb, and the rest of their gang at any minute, and Linda and Mrs. Tjinder were supposed to take them to their pre-dance dinner. The dance started in just under two and a half hours.

"Maybe there's time to find you a new dress," her mother suggested, guilt pooling in her voice. "Or you can wear one of your sundresses? Oh, lo siento, Mija, I didn't even see you!"

Isabella wanted to tell her mom it was alright; but she also didn't want to lie. They both knew there was no time for her to get a new dress. And, more than anything, they both knew they couldn't afford one. As for wearing one of her sundresses? Well, it was an eighth grade _formal._ She would stand out like a sore thumb in one of her everyday dresses, and there was nothing special about it at all!

Then the doorbell rang, and Isabella's eyes snapped up to the door.

 _No, no, no, no, nonononono!_ This would be Phineas and the others, and he would see her like this, and then he'd never love her, and she'd grow old and die alone!

"Mama!" she shrieked, sprinting up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" her mom called after her, poking her head around the bottom of the steps, and Isabella dashed back into the bathroom. Her perfect makeup was practically invisible now compared to her tear-ravaged eyes and red nose. She couldn't stop crying.

It was just… she'd hoped she could dance with Phineas tonight. Maybe he'd finally start to like her if they did! And now she'd never even know, because she couldn't go! She loved dancing so much, too…

"Isa, your friends are _here,_ " her mom said, appearing in the bathroom doorway. "You have to go, baby. You can't miss this."

"And I can't go like this!" Isabella countered. There was no getting this stain out, and there was no missing it, either. "Just… just tell them I'm not feeling well. They can go without me."

"Isa—"

"Porfa, Mama," she cried, dropping to the floor in front of the tub. "Just tell them, okay?"

There was a long silence, only interrupted by the doorbell as it rang for the third time. She was sure her phone must have been buzzing, but she'd left that downstairs. She buried her face in her knees—what did it matter, with a ruined dress—and her mom sighed.

"Okay, okay," she said somberly as she shuffled down the stairs again.

Isabella listened miserably as her mom threw the bolt. Instantly, Isabella could hear the excited chatter of her troop. And then she heard the one voice that was like a stake to her heart.

"Hi Ms. Garcia-Shapiro! Is Isabella ready?"

It was Phineas, and it _hurt._

She tried to keep as quiet as possible as her mom rattled off an excuse. It was at least gratifying to hear the disappointment in their reactions; they wanted her to go as much as she did. But there was no way she was going in a gross salsa dress, not when this was supposed to be the best night ever!

She felt like Cinderella. Cinderella who got a flat tire on her pumpkin carriage and was stranded on the side of the road until midnight came and went.

Her mom promised to update the others, and after even more coaxing, they finally left. The deal was sealed: Isabella would never make it to her ball.

A whole new wave of tears hit her, and she bunched her fingers up in her dress, holding her legs even tighter. This _sucked!_ The first school-sanctioned dance and she couldn't even go! Sure, she hadn't quite managed to get Phineas to ask her to go with him despite all her hints, but she was still part of his group.

Maybe she should just put on a sundress? Would the embarrassment and disappointment really be worse than not going at all?

There was a gentle rap on the door, and Isabella groaned.

"Mom, please, I just want to wallow."

Her mom didn't answer. Instead, she came further into the room—and it wasn't until he sat down next to her, right here on the bathroom floor, that Isabella realized it wasn't her mother at all.

"Ferb?" she yelped, swiping at her cheeks fiercely, as if she could possibly stop him from seeing her ugly tears. Of course he did, though. She figured they'd be hard to miss.

He didn't say anything. He just sat next to her, his knees to his chest in the same position she was in. He was in formal wear, too: black dress pants and a deep purple shirt. He was watching her, and it was hard to discern his expression. It wasn't quite worried. It was… _invested_. Yes, that was the word for it.

"My dress got completely ruined," she admitted in a small voice, and because she couldn't keep him from seeing for long, she unknotted her limbs enough to reveal the deep red stain of her demise. "It's _so_ bad, Ferb."

He eyed the salsa debris with a slight purse of his lips, and she ran her hands up through her hair.

"I know it's stupid to get this worked up over! I just—I was _so_ excited and I pictured how this would all go, and then that just shattered, and my mind started running away from me, and my perfect night of feeling like a princess literally spilled over before it even began."

He nodded, and there was sympathy in his gaze now. Oh thank god he wasn't judging her. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. She was being silly; it was just a dress and it was just a dance, really.

"It means a lot to you," he said quietly; and that meant more to her than she ever could have imagined. At the very least, it made her feel less ridiculous for being so upset. Even such a little bit of validation went a really, really long way.

Then the most horrible thing occurred to her.

"Oh my god, Ferb!" she gasped, shooting up and smacking him in the arm. "The others! You're supposed to be at dinner! With _them,_ not _here!_ What the heck are you doing?!"

He gestured to her, like it should have been obvious, and she frantically shook her head.

"No, you shouldn't miss this because of me! You love dancing more than any of us. That's not okay!"

His face went completely smooth, bordering on downright determined, and he nodded at her as if to say, _I won't be going anywhere without you._

Isabella opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. She didn't want to ruin her dress _and_ Ferb's night all in one blow.

When a minute passed and she still wasn't able to say anything, Ferb pushed himself from the floor. He took a second to straighten out his fancy clothes before he reached down for her. She didn't think she'd ever learn how to deny Ferb anything, so she let him take her hands and pull her to her feet.

He could see her dress in full now, in all of its wretchedness, and he let out a heavy sigh. She could tell at the small shake of his head that he knew there was no salvaging it.

"I know," she mumbled, looking down at her feet. "I'm a klutz. But my mom ran into me! Guess it doesn't matter either way."

When he made no response, verbal or otherwise, she looked back up at him. She was taken aback by how critically he was studying her—her arms, her legs, her waist; why the heck was he looking at her like that?

"Turn," was all he said, and when she could only stare at him in confusion, he twirled his finger in a way she might have expected a fashion designer to when they addressed a model under scrutiny. Not knowing what else to do, she turned, and he stopped her as soon as he could see her side. Then he studied her some more, and she felt heat slowly creep into her face.

"Ferb?"

"Turn," he repeated, and she quarter-turned again, so he could see her back.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, to see a contemplative frown on his face as he looked at her hips. That was when she realized what he must have been doing.

"Are you visually taking my _measurements?"_ she blurted out, turning to face him fully. She didn't know if she should be exasperated, heartened, or embarrassed by that idea. Honestly, she was a bit of all three.

All he did in answer was smirk at her before he took one step closer. He shaped two fingers around her ribcage, right where the bust of her current dress ended, taking more measurements, storing numbers in his head because he was a genius like that. Then he felt the shape at her waist, then at her hips; completely focused as if it weren't totally weird for him to touch her.

Well, it wasn't exactly _weird_ that he was touching her. It was _Ferb,_ after all. But she wasn't used to being touched by boys all that much, even if it was by a friend. At least he seemed too busy to notice the continued heat rising in her cheeks.

Suddenly Ferb turned away from her, and for a second Isabella thought he was leaving; and he _was,_ but he reached back and took her hand, drawing her on without so much as a single word of explanation.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he led her down the stairs, and she began to panic "I can't go to the dance, Ferb! Not like this! My dress is ruined and my face is a wreck because of all my stupid crying and I'm sure my hair is falling out already. You should just go grab food with the others while you still can! I'm all over the place. Really, Ferb. Please don't let me ruin your night, too!"

She rambled at him all the way to his house, but he didn't acknowledge any of her protests. He punched in their garage code instead, and having made it this far, Isabella continued to follow him inside.

"Promise me you won't miss the dance?" she insisted. "Please, Ferb! You really shouldn't miss it!"

He glanced back at her, but he continued his silence as they passed through the house to the stairs. He was still holding her hand, as if he thought she'd run if he didn't. Heck, maybe she would have! He never should've stayed behind with her; she knew he'd been looking forward to this dance every bit as much as she was.

Then, of all places, he stopped in front of Candace's room. He swiftly knocked on her door, and it took a few seconds, but finally Candace threw it open. She was in a t-shirt and house shorts with a phone to her ear, and it was _immediately_ obvious she didn't want to be disturbed.

"I thought you dweebs were—"

Candace cut herself off when she saw what was surely a rather unexpected and strange duo outside her door. When her eyes flicked from Isabella's dress to her face to her hair, Isabella knew she _understood_.

"Jeremy, I'm going to have to call you back," she deadpanned into her phone, still not looking away from Isabella's sorry state. "Of course. Love you too. _Bye."_

Candace slid her phone into her pocket and planted her hands on her hips.

"Who do I have to bust for doing this?" she demanded with something close to a laugh, and Isabella hung her head.

"It was an accident."

"Aren't _you_ supposed to be with the others?" Candace asked, turning her attention on her brother, and Ferb glanced away quickly as he shrugged. Isabella almost thought he was tryingnot to look at _her_ , like he didn't want his sister to see that. But that didn't really make any sense.

Isabella looked from Candace to Ferb, there and back again. One was highly inquisitive and the other was highly evasive. For some reason, it made a huge grin spread across Candace's face, and she let out another laugh as she threw her arm around Ferb's shoulder.

"Alright, you precious idiot. How can I help?"

Ferb gestured from Candace to Isabella's face, pointed to himself, then pointed to Phineas' room.

"Uh… make-up?" Candace guessed, and Ferb nodded, giving her a thumbs up as he suddenly rushed away, ducking into Phineas' room.

Now it was just Candace and her, which Isabella actually thought was kind of appropriate. Weren't big sisters supposed to help you with all these emotional disasters? Candace was the closest thing to a sister that Isabella had.

"I can't believe it!" Isabella blurted out, throwing her arms up. "I was so excited for this dance and to go with Phineas, and now I don't even know how it's possible for me to go! It starts in two hours and—and I just look _awful!_ "

"Rant while we do makeup," Candace said, taking her shoulders and pushing her toward the bathroom. Candace grabbed some much-needed supplies to make her look less like a red, puffy lunatic, and while she went to work, rant Isabella did.

"And I was being so careful, too! I wasn't going to eat anything until we all went out to dinner, and I was going to wear my shall during dinner, just in case! I knew my girls would let me sit right next to Phineas in the car and at the restaurant and he probably would would've asked to dance with me, too!"

She hesitated.

"Well, alright, he'd probably dance with me as part of our whole group, but you know what I mean! But then my mom ran right into me, and— _ugh!_ I never knew her delicious salsa could turn on me. And now they're all eating dinner at a fancy-shmancy restaurant and I probably won't even be able to go at all! And it—I just— _ugh,_ Candace! It sucks!"

The whole time, Candace had quietly been swiping brushes under Isabella's eyes, across her eyelids, around her nose—all with an uncharacteristically patient smirk. Now that Isabella was finished, the smirk stretched into a full grin.

"If you think Ferb's going to _let you_ not go, then you're completely delusional," she chuckled, before whipping out her mascara wand. Isabella tried to stay completely still as Candace continued, "He's going to make sure you get to go. Especially since this means so much to you."

"But—"

"I mean, he asked _me_ for help. _Ferb_ did _._ Do you know how many times that's happened? So right off the bat, I can say cool your jets, because you're _going_ to this dance."

Isabella pursed her lips, and it was only when Candace moved behind her to work on her dislodged hair that she decided to speak.

"So do you think he'll figure out a way to get the stain out?"

Candace snorted. "That is way too simple of a solution to expect of _either_ of my brothers. No, he's probably planning something else. But knowing Ferb, he's going to do something perfect for you."

"I feel so bad," Isabella groaned. "I'm such a wreck I can't even function without him holding my hand through all of this, and now he's missing out because of me!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say he's missing out," Candace said in a low voice; but Isabella knew he was!

Suddenly Ferb came in brandishing a pair of scissors. There was a sheet of pretty pink lace over the skirt of her ruined dress, and she cried out in alarm when Ferb pulled the lace layer up—and promptly began to _cut it off_ _her dress!_ He sliced the layer loose all the way around, and was gone as quickly as he'd come.

 _What?_

"I—he— _see?_ " Isabella through her arms forward, in the direction Ferb had just taken off in, as if pointing out proof. "He's scrambling around trying to help me instead of hanging out with all our friends! You can't tell me he's _not_ missing out."

"I think you're just going to have to take my word on this one," Candace said with something like a sigh. "Really. I definitely wouldn't say Ferb's missing out tonight in the slightest."

Isabella couldn't see how. A night with an emotional mess versus a night of sheer fun and potential romance? Isabella knew which one she'd prefer, and she couldn't imagine why Ferb would prefer any differently.

"What do you think he's doing, then?" she eventually asked.

It only took Candace a minute more to fix Isabella's hair—Candace was as preposterously capable as her younger brothers sometimes—and as she started pushing Isabella back toward the door, she said, "Let's go see!"

They crossed to Phineas' room and opened the door… but Ferb was nowhere to be found. Instead, the only thing out of the ordinary were the scraps of yellow cloth—and they were _all over the place!_

"Are those… Phineas' curtains?" Isabella gasped. "What happened to them? It looks like a freaking tornado came through here!"

It was only then that Isabella realized Candace had already retreated to her room, and she was alone. Not knowing what else to do, she crossed over to Ferb's room. That was a new change this year; in preparation for high school, Linda enthusiastically transformed the guest room into Ferb's own space.

The door was closed, and since she didn't really spend much time in Ferb's room, she hesitantly knocked. It took a few seconds for him to open the door, and once he saw her, he smiled widely.

"Better?" she asked pathetically, noting in the back of her mind that she really owed Candace a thanks. Or maybe two. Or maybe a dozen.

"You look like you again," was all he said in response. She hoped that wasn't a bad thing, but from the way he was looking at her, she thought it was probably a safe bet that it wasn't.

"I hope you have a plan, Fletcher, because I'm going to kill you if you end up missing the dance because of me."

He nodded, and when she made to enter his room, he took her shoulders and gently pushed her back.

"Wait, am I not allowed to _come in?"_ she gasped, incredulity filling her lungs.

Ferb took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, but beyond that his only acknowledgement of her question was a coy wink—before he once again closed his door.

Isabella was left to stare at it. At the door. Closed in her face.

 _What the heck?_

Then, after a moment, Ferb opened it again and handed her her phone. He must have grabbed it before he'd come upstairs and found her on the floor of her bathroom. He closed the door again, and this time, she resigned to sit on the carpet and lean against it. At least now she had a form of entertainment.

Entertainment or, she realized, perhaps torture.

She had two missed calls from Phineas, the time stamp indicating it was from when he was waiting outside her door. She also had, like, two dozen messages from all her friends. It was endearing knowing they'd been worried about her, but there were some pictures of them at dinner, too—and that was _awful._

In one of them, Buford and Baljeet were sitting on either side of Phineas, who was stuffing a bread roll in his mouth, completely unaware the picture was being taken. It should have been Ferb and her sitting on either side of him, she thought gloomily.

Her phone, it turned out, was doubly torturous; because all she could eventually bring herself to do was watch the time slowly _tick, tick, tick_ from one minute to the next. The dance started at 7:30, and that was approaching at a depressingly steady march.

Twice Ferb poked his head out the door, a pencil tucked behind his ear, and stared at her critically before disappearing again. She'd given up on thinking too hard about what he was doing. She was too busy watching the time fizzle, regardless.

There was an hour left before the dance began.

There were fifty minutes left before the dance began.

There were forty-seven minutes left before the dance began.

There were—Isabella squealed as the door flew open behind her. She'd been leaning on it, completely distracted, and now she fell back against Ferb's legs. She was caught mid-way through an embarrassed laugh when Ferb suddenly held something out, draping it in front of her eyes.

She could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. It was yellow. It was _beautiful._

It was a dress.

"We don't have much time," Ferb told her, but she was too shocked to move.

It had a sweetheart neckline and the bodice had strips of the pink lace from her first dress overlapping on the yellow fabric, wrapping in an _immensely_ flattering way. He'd used thin pieces of the pink lace as straps, too, which would make it so much easier to move in. The skirt was made with several layers of the same yellow fabric—Phineas' _curtains,_ she only now realized—and fell in a way that told her Ferb had one goal in mind: _dancing._

She knew, beyond a doubt, that this skirt would positively _twirl._

"Isabella," he prompted quietly, and she shot to her feet. She didn't take the dress, though. Instead, she threw her arms around Ferb with so much force they both might have fallen if he hadn't caught himself on his doorframe.

" _Ferb!"_ she gushed. "You—you're just—you're _amazing!"_

She pulled back enough to take his face and practically smash her lips against his cheek. It was clumsy and silly and probably weird for him since she couldn't stop smiling, but she couldn't help it! She kissed his other cheek for good measure and was practically bouncing as she took the dress out of his hands.

She held the original creation against her, trying to gage the size. She wouldn't even be surprised if Ferb nailed it without her even trying it on. He was a mathematical genius. Heck, Ferb was an _everything_ genius.

It wasn't until Candace started cracking up that Isabella realized the older girl had been standing in her doorway. She seemed to be laughing at Ferb? Ferb, who had turned away from them both so she really couldn't see his face. He gestured vaguely to his room, maybe indicating she should change? It was hard to tell when he wasn't looking at her.

"You two better hurry if you're going to make it," Candace pointed out with a sly little grin, and Ferb nodded curtly before rushing down the stairs. Isabella still hadn't been able to see his face, but she supposed that didn't matter right now. As Candace had said, they were on a time limit.

When Isabella ducked into Ferb's room, she could have sworn she heard Candace say, "Missing out, my ass," but she couldn't be sure. It wouldn't have made sense, even if she had.

It felt pretty good to get out of her stained—and now moderately cut up—dress. It felt _even better_ putting the new one on! It slid right up her body and over her shoulders, and as far as she could tell, it was a pretty perfect fit. If only she could get it zipped…

Wow, yes, in this short amount of time, Ferb had created a completely unique, completely from-scratch formal dress with a _zipper_ to zip it on up. She shouldn't have been surprised, considering all the crazy stuff he and his brother pull off, but _still._

Even without it zipped up, Isabella felt so… so _beautiful_ when she caught herself in the mirror in the hall. Candace had done a good job on her makeup, leaving it light and just noticeable enough. Her dark hair was in curls with a little bit pinned up, and she never would have guessed she'd look so good in yellow.

Isabella felt a million times lovelier than she ever had in that pink dress. Maybe because she knew all the kindness and love that went into this one. Maybe because it was literally _made_ for her! And it still had her favorite part of her first dress: that accent of pretty pink lace.

"Candace," she called, stopping outside the older girl's door, and when Candace emerged again, Isabella turned around. "Would you zip me up?"

When at first nothing happened, Isabella glanced over her shoulder; and she could practically see the cogs turning in that head of hers from the look on Candace's face. It had been a fairly straightforward request, hadn't it?

"Candace?"

Candace snapped back to attention and shoved Isabella away.

"Actually, uh, _bzzzzz,_ my phone is ringing! Why don't you ask Ferb to! Okay, bye!"

And just like that, Isabella had the second door of the day closed in her face.

Well. If Candace hadn't wanted to, she could have just said so…

Holding her dress up, she ran down the stairs and found Ferb in the kitchen. He was pushing buttons on the microwave, but he froze when he saw her. She grinned sheepishly and, making sure she had a good hold on it, she twirled around, letting him see the dress on all sides. Just as she expected, the skirt floated around her, and she felt so giddy she could squeal!

" _Wow_."

She wasn't sure she heard him right, but when she turned to him, the smile on his face was enough to confirm his response.

"This is amazing, Ferb! It's so much better than the one before! Oh!" She turned on her heel. "But could you zip me up? Please."

Ferb was as slow to respond as his older sister had been. What was with these guys? It really was a simple request! She was just beginning to wonder if she needed to repeat herself; but then he stepped forward, and she felt his fingers brush against her skin. His hand trailed up her back as he pulled the zipper, and Isabella smiled to herself. Ferb was so… _warm._

As soon as the zipper was fastened, she shot back around, and Ferb's eyes lit with surprise. They were rather close, after all, but Isabella wouldn't let anything touch her mood right now. She was giggling as she took his hands, stepping back just enough to give him a proper view of his masterpiece.

"Ferb, I love it so much!"

Mirroring her mood, Ferb was smiling now, too, and he lifted his arm up. Recognizing the gesture, Isabella turned under his arm, and before she knew it, they were doing a lively sort of slow dance in the middle of the kitchen. Giving the dress a test drive. Isabella couldn't stop laughing as she turned under his arm again.

After a few seconds, their dance turned into a hug. Isabella simply hadn't been able to resist. He'd really saved her butt! And this… this was so much better than she ever could have imagined.

Most surprising of all, Ferb didn't push her away. Not that he usually pushed her away or anything; but he'd never proven himself to be much of a hugger. She hadn't expected him to actually hold her—and when the beeping of the microwave interrupted them, she actually felt disappointed.

Ferb gently pulled back at the beckons of the appliance and popped open the door. From inside, he retrieved a steaming container of… _Linda's leftover homemade lasagna?_ Oh my god, oh my god, _yum!_

Ferb carried that to the table, retrieved two forks, and tossed Isabella a jacket that was draped over the back of a kitchen chair. It was one he wore often, and when she saw she could slide her arms in instead of pulling it on over her head, she realized his intent and quickly put it on. No way in hell she was letting this dressed get stained like the first one!

Ferb flipped the light above the kitchen table so they could see a bit better, and offered her a fork. He hadn't even bothered with plates; they would be sharing the food right out of the container.

"I know it's not a fancy group dinner," Ferb had the audacity to say, as if he wasn't the most incredible person on the planet! And as if she hadn't shoved a monstrous bite of that lasagna into her mouth already…

Isabella swallowed and reached over for his hand, catching it as he was going for his first bite.

"Ferb," she told him, looking him straight in the eyes. "This is _perfect."_

What was perhaps most shocking of all was that she meant it. This was all unorthodox for sure. A bit stressful, definitely. But when all was said and done, she thought perfect was a good word for it, too.

Plus, because it was just Ferb, she didn't have to worry about how she looked. It was _Ferb;_ there was absolutely no reason for her to be self-conscious about anything. So she scarfed down the lasagna and ate with her elbows on the table and didn't care that she got a little sauce on her finger and licked it off—all things she shouldn't do at a fancy shmancy dinner. At least not one where she would be trying really, really hard to capture Phineas' attention and get him to like her.

At least with Ferb, everything was so _easy._

Ferb tapped his watch as they finished the last of their impromptu meal, and Isabella pulled out her phone. _Twenty minutes until the dance started!_ And a _huge_ problem only now occurred to her.

"Your mom and Ms. Tjinder were everyone's rides! How are we supposed to even get there?"

Ferb pursed his lips, but after a second, he started to laugh. Before she could ask what he was thinking, he took her hand and led her to their garage. There, he grabbed his bike and mounted it, and when she could only stare at him, he gestured to the bookrack behind him. It could easily be a seat, but…

"You'll get your pants dirty, won't you?" she questioned, and he rolled his eyes. This time, he patted the bookrack with a little more surety, and Isabella approached. Good thing this wasn't a skin-tight skirt, or she'd have an issue throwing her leg over to the other side. She took Ferb's shoulders as she centered herself, hooking her feet on the wheel covers, and just like that, they were off to the dance.

Oh my god, by-bike was _not_ how she imagined going to her first-ever school dance, and she folded over onto Ferb's back, she was laughing so hard.

Unorthodox. A bit stressful. _Perfect._

Yup, those were the most accurate words ever for tonight.

"Ferb, you're totally my fairy godmother," she giggled. She held on tight as they banked around a corner, before she said, "You found me crying about not being able to go to the ball, and you made me a dress, and now this—" She squealed as they hit a bump, and she wrapped her arms around him. "This is our crazy, weird pumpkin carriage."

Ferb started cracking up. Maybe he was picturing himself in a light blue robe with a magical wand. Maybe even with glittery wings. Heaven knew that was Isabella's mental image right now, though she couldn't find it in herself to laugh at him. She was too much in his debt to do that.

At a smooth stretch of road, she pulled her phone out of Ferb's pocket—quite the feat, all things considered, and checked the time. Ten minutes until the dance started, but they were about halfway there.

Oh my god, they would totally make it! At least, they would if Ferb kept this speed.

"You're going to wear yourself down before we even make it to the dance," Isabella said into his ear as he pedaled, but he shrugged.

"It's worth it," he exhaled under his breath. "Hold on."

He banked around another corner, and Isabella wrapped her arms around his chest again. Her pretty yellow dress flowed in the wind, rather ironically like curtains in a breeze, and she couldn't help but smile to herself all the way to school.

* * *

 _There you are, Spazz: Thirteen. These cuties, I swear! I can't handle it!_

 _I saw some follows, which I of course_ _appreciate, but I would love to hear back from you about each chapter! This story was a super rushed job, but I've still poured my heart into it, and a review about the chapter would mean the world to me!_

 _See you in two days!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	3. Fourteen

_I hope you're feeling quite jazzy_

 _For the next part of my present to Spazzy!_

 _Though I suck with rhyming,_

 _Both the words and the timing,_

 _I hope you think this chapter is shnazzy!_

...

 _I know it's not 2 am like it was last time I wrote crappy stanzas for you, but I'm super sleep deprived right now, so it still counts! Haha a poet I am not. Buuut a friend of Spazzumtard I am! So without further ado, a mere two days later..._

 _I present the next chapter! Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

FOURTEEN

* * *

High school was starting with the most exciting bang Isabella could imagine: a retreat for all the students—incoming freshman included—who would be members of Danville High's Student Council.

It sounded official and fancy, but what it really was was a couple of days in the mountains with a bunch of other teenagers. And if two of the other freshman recommended for the program by their old middle school counselors happened to be Phineas and Ferb?

Yeah, Isabella knew it would be a fun weekend.

After a grueling bus ride that they mostly slept through, they were finally there and going through the haptic process of getting their belongings in the appropriate cabins. Isabella was lucky enough to be near the bus stop, so her job was done quickly. She could enjoy the wonderful smell of mountain pine as she sought out Phineas and Ferb's cabin. She _loved_ it out here.

Phineas and Ferb were still waiting for access to their cabin when she caught up with them, but any time with them was a good time. Phineas was recounting old stories their dad had told them about how the stretch of mountains to their west was once known for mining, on and on.

Isabella was interested, of course.

She also might have been a bit distracted by the fact that Phineas was wearing a sporty tank top. He hardly ever did that, and his pale shoulders were covered with so many freckles she couldn't help but smile.

Oh, but that reminded her…

She pulled off her backpack and started to dig through it.

"I know I packed it," she groaned as her hand plunged deep into the recesses of her bag. "I could swear I—"

Sunscreen appeared right in front of her face, and Isabella stared at it in shock for a second. Then her eyes trailed from the hand holding it and up the arm, to the smirking face of Ferb Fletcher.

"Are you a mind reader?" she laughed, freeing her hand from its prison and snatching the sunscreen from him. She hadn't even said that was what she'd been looking for!

He only winked as she squirted some coconut-scented sunlotion onto her hand and started spreading it over her arms. She rolled her eyes. Smug Brit.

"Hey Iz, is my neck rubbed in?" Phineas asked, turning so she could inspect him. "I put it on on the bus, and I want to make sure I got my ears well, too! I'll turn into a _lobster_ if I'm not careful."

Never one to turn down the chance to touch him, Isabella ran her fingers across the back of his neck. He'd actually done a pretty good job on his own, but he didn't need to know that. She, herself, was wearing a tank top too, and she wouldn't be passing up on this opportunity, either.

"You're good to go," she confirmed as she leaned on his shoulders. "You mind helping me, too?"

"Sure!" he agreed, and excitement bubbled up in her as she tossed the bottle of sunscreen to him, lifted her hair up, and turned around.

"Make sure you get all of it," she said as coyly as she could. He'd have a lot of back to cover in this tank top. Maybe he would touch her and get all fluttery inside. And then he'd wonder why, and realize he loved her. Then they would get married and have three kids and a dog and a platypus and maybe a fish.

"This stuff smells good!" was all he had to say about the matter, sniffing the lotion as he got some more, and Isabella internally groaned. _But_ he hadn't started putting it on yet! She bit her lip in anticipation.

The first thing she felt? That the sunscreen was cold. Otherwise, he was just humming a cheerful tune while smearing it on. Isabella was hoping this might be a moment between them, or something, but it was painfully ordinary. She supposed she really shouldn't expect anything else with Phineas, though.

The kids, dog, platypus, and fish would just have to wait.

"I think they have an astronomy pavilion just over there," he said, pointing over her shoulder. "I think that's where we're making s'mores later! I can't wait to check this place out, but let me finish putting my stuff away."

He wiped his hands on his legs to get rid of the extra sunscreen, grabbed his duffel bag, and dashed into he and Ferb's cabin now that the counselor had arrived with their keys. Isabella's eyes followed him all the way inside.

"It feels like half his brain is back in the first grade and the other half has already graduated college," she grumbled, and Ferb chuckled.

When she looked back over to him, he shrugged as if to say, _You're not wrong._

Phineas was the most childlike super genius to ever have existed. It was charming and adorable. Most the time.

"No one can say I don't try," she said, and Ferb nodded as he crossed behind her. It took her a moment to realize he was inspecting his brother's job.

"He didn't even rub it in," Ferb muttered incredulously, and Isabella let out a pathetic laugh.

"Way to rub it in, Fletcher."

He snorted. At least he appreciated her pun. She strained her arm and started to rub at her shoulder, but she must have looked pretty pitiful, because Ferb smacked her hand away. She hung her head in defeat as he silently began to finish the job.

"I try and try and try," she sighed, and Ferb gently squeezed her shoulder.

"And your resilience is part of what makes you Isabella," he told her, before gathering his own stuff and following his brother.

How Ferb could always make her feel better, she'd never know.

This trip was all about getting to know the other members of the Student Council. Most of the others already knew each other, since they were second, third, or even fourth-year members of the leadership program; but, in all honesty, everyone knew who Phineas, Ferb, and she were, too. They were definitely… _involved_ citizens, to put it lightly. Most of Danville knew them by name.

Still, they went through the motions. They had a welcome ceremony with the Camp Director, played some cheesy icebreakers with the camp counselors, and began to learn everyone's names. There were twenty-eight students in the leadership program and two teacher coordinators. It was a good thing Isabella was used to being around such vibrant, outgoing people, or it would have been overwhelming.

They were supposed to mix groups and try different stations with new people… but Isabella had to admit, when Phineas headed off toward rock climbing, chatting with some senior, she totally followed. She talked to her new peers as she went, so she was still following the guidelines! Plus, Ferb had trailed after them, too, so she didn't feel so bad if he was doing the same thing.

They had a number of activities they were encouraged to do: rock climbing, obviously, and also hiking, crafts, canoeing, and a wicked ropes course. Each station had kind of hokey teamwork and leadership themes and lessons imbued in them, but Isabella thought that was part of the charm. And tonight, they would make s'mores while telling ghost stories! She was really looking forward to that.

When one of the counselors asked for volunteers for the climbing wall, Phineas' hand shot in the air. All the upperclassman were really impressed with his moxie, and Isabella couldn't help but laugh. He'd climbed Mount Rushmore when he was ten, so this, really, was no big deal.

He began harnessing up, and Isabella found her hand shooting into the air. She volunteered. If anyone was going to get to climb that wall with Phineas, it would be her, so she marched forward and strapped into a harness, too.

One of the upperclassman already volunteered to belay for Phineas, and Isabella froze. She'd been so focused on just getting on the wall with Phineas, it didn't occur to her to partner up.

There was a tug on her rope, and she turned to see Ferb holding the other end. He gave her a thumbs up, and she grinned at him. _Perfect._

"Hey, Phin, wait for me!" she called as he took the first stone, and she bounded up beside him. "Room for me?" she asked as she batted her eyelashes, and Phineas gave her a huge smile.

"Of course! Race you to the top!"

Behind her, Ferb pulled her rope taught, and as soon as Phineas counted down from three, they began to climb.

Man, she hadn't been climbing in a while! But she'd been the first of her troop to win their Rock Climbing Adventure patch, and that wasn't for no reason! She got the advantage on Phineas early, and when she reached the top before he did, she turned around and blew him a kiss down below.

Phineas was grinning when he made it to the top and pulled himself up next to her. They sat there on top of the wall for a moment, catching their breath, and he reached out a fist to her. Maybe not what she would have ideally liked from him—because, like, a kiss on top of the wall would have been nice—but this wasn't unwelcome, either. She bumped her own fist against his.

"Nice one!" he cheered. Then he pointed at a tall lattice of pillars and cords they could see from up here, just a short way through the trees. "Look at the ropes course! Oh man, we totally should have checked that one out first!"

He held his hand out to her, and she got so excited. She accepted it, and he eased her off the ledge. She wished he would have held her hand longer, but he was already lowering himself down, too.

"Ferb?" she called, looking down, and when he nodded at her from where he held her rope, she knew he was prepared. She let go of the wall, and he gradually lowered her down.

They passed their harnesses on to the next person, and she was bombarded with the compliments of her new team. It was pretty satisfying. She could swear one of the sophomores was even _flirting_ with her; but of course her heart was reserved for Phineas only.

Where was he?

She found him talking animatedly to one of the counselors—making suggestions about adding moving rock plates and surprise propulsion to some of the hand-holds that would send the climber drifting to another part of the wall on the fly.

The poor counselor looked like he'd been run over by a verbal freight train in the wake of Phineas' enthusiasm.

When he saw her approach, he waved goodbye to the counselor and sprang over to her. "Hey, want to go check out when we're on the ropes course?"

He started off in that direction with a couple other of their new friends, and Isabella made to follow—but something occurred to her, and she stopped. She looked back to Ferb, who was just putting on the harness for the climbing wall. When he realized she was watching him, his eyes widened in surprised. He gestured forward, encouraging her to go with Phineas.

Oh, Ferb.

She looked at Phineas as he confidently strolled toward the trail, and she'd love to go with him, of course. But... she couldn't.

Isabella caught up to Phineas and took his shoulder.

"I'll meet you there in just a moment. I've got to spot for Ferb first, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely!" he said. "Of course! See you there, okay?"

Isabella agreed, and he was off. She questioned if she'd lost her mind every single step she took away from Phineas. It really wasn't like her to pass up any amount of time she could spend with him. But she was Isabella Garcia-Shapiro; it also wasn't like her to brush off her friends. No matter how much she liked a boy.

Ferb hadn't seen her approach because he was facing a camp counselor. The twenty-something helper was eagerly fastening and double-checking all the straps. They probably didn't know Phineas, Ferb, and she had been scaling mountains since they were six; but Ferb kindly remained silent and let them do their job.

When he turned back around to find her holding his rope in the belaying position, he actually tripped, he was so surprised. It was so wonderful to see that it made her giggle; sometimes she needed little reminders that Ferb was actually a flawed human being. Watching him trip and actually managing to take the genius by surprise was _immensely_ gratifying.

He made a series of gestures that seemed to say, _Wait, what about Phineas?_

"I know," she shrugged, "but you matter too, Ferb."

He stared at her. He looked like she'd said something baffling. Like she'd said something he'd never known before and couldn't believe.

It was so extraordinarily endearing. _Of course_ he mattered to her!

"We'll see if you can beat my time," she teased, nodding toward the wall. "I set the bar pretty high. Think you're up for it?"

His stunned expression faded to confidence. He tilted his head toward the rock wall, his smug smile seeming to say, _Just watch me._

Watch him she did, keeping his rope nice and taught. And of course, because he was _Ferb,_ he did beat her time. Only by, like, ten seconds, but still. He was perfect.

Although, she had that image of him tripping tucked away in the back of her mind to remind her of his human status. She wouldn't be forgetting.

When they were finished, she mentioned meeting up with Phineas and he nodded his agreement. She supposed they both needed to mingle with other people, but when he held his elbow out to her like a proper gentleman, she couldn't help but giggle and take it.

By the time they caught up with Phineas at the ropes course, he was already elbows-deep in a project.

Isabella's jaw dropped. They'd only been behind Phineas _maybe_ ten minutes while all the other people had their turns, and already Phineas had transformed the ropes course.

It had been impressive in the first place: a positively humongous network of ropes with crazy complicated platforms and challenging obstacles to maneuver, all of which was about fifty feet off the ground.

As always, however, Phineas dreamed _bigger._

As they broke through the trees to the ropes course, they were met with the sight of Phineas working on the configuration for the ninth hovering platform.

"Hey, guys!" he called out when he saw them. "I changed the harnesses so they work with anti-gravity technology so we have more versatility with movement. Plus these platforms will really change up route options once I get them flying."

Ferb grinned and marched right forward to help his brother. He needed no further explanation, just a screwdriver in his hands, and it only took him a minute of work before the platform sputtered, turned on, and lifted into the air.

"I knew it needed the touch of my favorite mechanic!" Phineas praised, and Isabella snorted to herself.

 _Her boys_ … Really, she couldn't take them anywhere.

"Phineas, this is about team building—not _actual_ building," she laughed, but he grinned and shrugged.

"There's no reason we can't do both, right?"

"None at all," she agreed, picking up a wrench and going for the under-construction control panel. Between the three of them, they would have this super tricked-out ropes course up and running in five minutes, tops. This was child's play for them.

By this point, Phineas' personal posse had grown from a few people being friendly to the newbies to pretty much the whole class. Phineas had effortlessly corralled the student leaders, and without even meaning to, he'd set them into an orbit around him as they eagerly watched him fly.

This, it seemed, had always been Phineas' talent. She supposed that was what happened when you shined like the sun.

And she had to give it to him: the ropes course was _way_ more fun the Phineas-and-Ferb way.

The first time since the initial icebreakers that the whole group did something together was at the canoe lake. Thirty people could fit in one canoe—convenient, since that was the size of their group. Although, it occurred to her that maybe that was by design.

The canoe was a whopping metaphor and team-building exercise, all in one: it took all of their strength to move forward, all of their will and cooperation to remain balanced, yadda yadda.

They piled in two to a bench. Isabella sat next to a really pretty and cheery senior that never stopped smiling; there were worse things. They managed to haphazardly canoe from the dock and halfway around the island at the center of Danville Bear Lake—nice name—without too much trouble.

Isabella had expected them to simply paddle all the way around the island and back to the dock again; but like all good challenges, there was a twist. When they reached the halfway point, their advisers told them everyone in the canoe had to change sides with their partner—and it would take everyone working together to keep the boat balanced while they did.

The boat rocked dangerously as the first five rows shakily stood and shuffled their way around each other (personal space, by the way, did _not_ exist right now. At least everyone seemed to have put on deodorant today).

It was Isabella and her partner's turn, and she stood. She heard a few words exchanged between a pair maybe four rows back; and she didn't know what shenanigans occurred thereafter, but whatever transpired wasn't good.

She was pretty sure a couple of juniors had just been messing around or weren't paying attention enough to do their own part in keeping things steady, but the boat careened, and Isabella's balance was thrown. Her arms flailed and she started to fall—but Ferb caught her wrists just in time and kept her from tumbling over.

She let out a breath of relief, hardly believing that almost happened—when Phineas shifted to try to stabilize them both, and the whole boat tilted. Phineas bumped into Ferb, and with a cry, she and the Brit toppled right over the side and into the lake below.

The water was cold, made even colder for having been so unexpected. She felt Ferb take her hand underwater, and she held onto it as they both kicked back up to air.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Phineas said as soon as they broke the surface. "That was totally my fault! I'm so, _so_ sorry!"

His apology may have felt more genuine if he weren't laughing his ass off, Isabella thought mirthfully. Ferb shook his head at his brother, looking just as exasperated as she felt, but when he met her gaze, she couldn't help but tease him.

"Thanks for the help, Ferb," she laughed, splashing him in the face with water, and she squealed when he did it back.

"At least I tried," he quipped. "Not that it did much good."

"I'm so, so, _so_ sorry!" Phineas repeated, but as soon as he reached out to them, the canoe started tilting again, and one of the other students yanked him back down into the boat.

From there, the focus of their teamwork exercise went through an impromptu change: how to work together to get Ferb and Isabella back _into_ the boat without the whole thing spilling over.

They failed. Miserably.

But when they all ended up in the lake, Phineas splashed the senior that had been talking to him so much, and their canoe hour turned into a Council-wide lake party.

When it came right down to it, between all the laughing and splashing and horsing around in the cool water, Isabella thought maybe this was a better team-building exercise anyway. It was Phineas, after all, who had taught her that fun could build bridges just as well as a challenge could.

Needless to say, they were all exhausted by the time the sun started setting. Their campfire gathering turned into a pajama campfire gathering, since all of their clothes had been soaked, and almost no one brought a full spare set of clothing. So they all dried off and got into their pajamas early.

Yes, she thought the Leadership program was off to a really good start.

Warmly in PJs, everyone was gathering for S'mores. She'd earned her S'mores patch when she was only five years old; she had this in the bag! And apparently they'd be telling ghost stories? Oh, she was in! Ghost stories always cracked her up.

While she was gathering wood to contribute to the campfire, she felt someone bump her hip with their own, and she turned to see a familiar smirk.

"We're supposed to be mixing with new people, Ferb," she giggled. "I don't think you count as 'new people.'"

He shrugged and tossed her another chunk of wood for the fire. With a shake of her head, she rolled her eyes.

"If you're breaking the rules, then _you_ can carry the wood," she said as she danced over and deposited the full stack in his arms. She expected him to falter or contest or tease her; but instead he shrugged again, shifted his hold, and continued on their path with the firewood.

"Oh, I was totally kidding!" she gasped. She'd been messing with him! But when she tried to take some of the wood back, he kept turning, blocking her off, and now she felt bad!

Damn Brit. She punched him in the arm as heat rose to her face. She didn't even know what to do with Ferb most the time.

Ferb stuck by her side when they were finally settling down on a circle of logs around a central campfire, and she turned an amused glare on him.

"Scooch, Ferbooch," she said nudging him over so there was enough room for Phineas to sit on her other side. He'd sat in the spot she'd been saving for the redhead, but she wasn't about to tell him that; he was fine there. Besides, it wasn't a big deal when they could still make room for Phineas anyway.

Speaking of which, Phineas was making a spectacle of himself in the center of the group. He was heralding a jumbo bag of marshmallows like a king might revel in his bounty, and began to pass them out to their utterly charmed peers of the Council.

"Oh shoot! I forgot my skewer-thing!" Isabella suddenly realized.

She turned to Ferb.

After a second, a slow smile spread across his face. "What?"

What? What, what?

Then it occurred to her.

She had actually been waiting for him to, like, whip out a spare or something. As if that was something normal people could do at the drop of a hat. Which was ridiculous! She shouldn't expect him to be all, _bam! Problem solved_ , all the time. It was completely unrealistic.

What was funny was Isabella hadn't even thought about it. It was just sort of natural by now. She had a problem, Ferb fixed it. Oh jeese, he totally spoiled her! So much that it was like a reflex now; so common that she didn't even notice it.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she burst into laughter. "I don't know why I thought you'd just randomly have a spare. I guess usually it's just like, b _am,_ Ferb saves the day. I didn't even think about it!"

Ferb grinned, shaking his head as he looked down at his hands. He was _so_ amused.

"I love that you innately assume I can read your mind now," he chuckled, and she smacked his arm.

"Oh hush," she said, but she knew he wouldn't let her live this down. He was usually quiet, but she could tell how he was feeling. She could tell when he was pleased or proud or bummed or tired, even when his expression remained that same calm gaze. And right now, he was feeling smug.

"Stay here, Captain Smug Pants," she grumbled. "I'll be right back."

But as soon as she stood up, Ferb caught her wrist—much like he had earlier, on the canoe. You know, before they both toppled over anyway. She blinked down at him, at the cheeky grin on his face. And then he drew a spare marshmallow skewer from his side.

"Wait, so you _did_ have one?" She hadn't even been wrong; he totally already had what she'd needed. He'd just been teasing her! And she hadn't even been crazy when she'd expected that, because she was _right!_ "I swear I'm going to kill you, Fletcher!"

He scoffed, his face incredulous as if to say, _For helping you?_

She snatched the skewer from his hand and sat down huffily. "For making me feel like an idiot about your weird super powers when I was completely right in the first place!"

"Super powers?" Phineas asked, approaching them with a smile and the bag of marshmallows. He handed them both a big, fluffy white glob before he turned his attention back to his brother. "You have super powers, Ferb? You've been holding out on me."

"Yes!" Isabella declared, throwing her hands up into the air, skewer and all. "I have, like, tangible proof that Ferb is both telepathic and psychic."

Phineas rubbed at his chin, eyeing Ferb before deciding, "No, I actually think that's just with you."

Ferb proceeded to shove a marshmallow in his brother's mouth, and Isabella blinked in shock. Of course Phineas wasn't mad; he laughed as he swallowed and tried to do the same back, but Ferb was too fast. He blocked all of his brother's attempts until Phineas was laughing so hard he had to give up.

"Oh you two," he wheezed, holding his gut as he regained his breath. "You guys are my favorite."

He tossed them each an extra marshmallow before finishing up his rounds.

S'mores were made, and everyone quieted down as one of their advisors began the ghost stories. The first one was blatantly moral-driven: a tale of a vengeful spirit of the forest—that still haunted these very grounds to this day, of course—who lurked—on dark and silent nights, very much like _this one_ —waiting for campers to wander too far, stay out too late, so that it could take revenge on mankind for ravaging the spirit's fair planet.

Isabella was cracking up. Not because of the environmental message or anything; she was all for that. But because of the way ghost stories were _told._ Sure, they were meant to build tension in the darkness of the night, but even when she was four and in Lil' Sparks, Isabella couldn't help but think ghost stories were funny _._ So much drama. So much unnecessary suspense. They were freaking _hilarious._

What was baffling, however, was that some of the other people in their group actually looked a bit spooked by some of the stories. Come on, the man with the _camping knife_ for a hand? The oozing creature from Danville Lagoon? She didn't understand how any of her peers could look freaked out by even an ounce of this crap!

At several points, Ferb snorted under his breath, and Isabella found herself smiling because finally! _Finally,_ someone got it! Ghost stories were sheer comedic gold, not scary!

"…Never to be seen again," the current storyteller concluded in a somber voice—and both she and Ferb started laughing.

Unfortunately, they were quickly cut off by a cleared throat and a couple of disproving glares. She quickly sobered back up; but that didn't stop her from sharing a private, cheeky look with Ferb.

He suddenly leaned over until his mouth was right by her ear and said, "I suppose our opinion isn't a popular one."

"Seriously," she whispered back. "I don't get why they're scared."

Ferb shrugged, and Isabella thought that would be his answer; but then he said, "Perhaps one good scare ought to do them some good."

She couldn't help it; she burst out laughing again.

This time, it was one of their advisors that cleared their throat, and Isabella clamped a hand over her mouth. Ferb, meanwhile, was shaking with silent laughter. Isabella vowed then and there that she was going to kill him _,_ but he wrapped an arm around her before she could and brought her against his side.

She wasn't even sure why, but she had to clamp her other hand over her mouth to keep herself from falling into stitches, and Ferb pulled her face against his chest, also trying to muffle her amused little pulls for air.

She was bordering on hysterical and there wasn't even a real reason and she was certain other people were watching her, and she _swore to god_ she was going _kill this Brit_ the first chance she got!

But in the meantime, she stayed where she was and tried to focus on muffling her laughter no matter how ridiculous the ghost story was.

"What's so funny?" Phineas asked once the current story had ended, but Isabella just shook her head. Phineas wouldn't get it, and it wasn't something she could explain.

Ghost stories marked the end of their scheduled evening; they were free from here on out. Granted, they weren't encouraged to do anything outside of cabins, boys and girls couldn't be in each other's cabins, and everyone was too tired to do much of anything anyway.

Isabella had no intent beyond making it to a bunk, personally, but she held back a little as everyone dispersed under the guise of helping clean up a little more. She'd done it specifically so she could enjoy the quiet solitude of heading back to her cabin alone. She was no rookie to being in the woods, after all; and she especially enjoyed it at night.

It turned out, however, that she wouldn't be alone.

"You don't have to walk with me, Ferb," she chuckled as she trekked back to her cabin. "I'm an outdoors expert by now. _Fireside Girl,_ remember? I'll be fine."

He smirked at her. "Of course. It's for my own protection."

A thrill of delight shot through her. Oh Ferb, he was so funny.

"Better safe than sorry, huh?" she laughed, and he nodded adamantly.

Despite how utterly ridiculous that was, his presence warmed her from the inside out. She knew Phineas cared about her, but she also knew if she weren't around, he would still continue on with his antics. It was kind of nice, mattering this much.

She reached over and shoved at his shoulder.

"I think Phineas understood this whole 'Try to get to know the people you don't really know yet' concept way better than you do, Fletcher."

She'd had to deal with that fact as the redhead mixed and mingled with pretty much every other person here, rather than her; very much _unlike_ his older brother, who neither mingled nor strayed too far.

When he didn't respond, she glanced over at him; and Ferb struck her with a look that made her feet falter.

"I understand the concept just fine," he told her as he jumped up onto a fallen log. He strolled all the way across, his hands tucked in his pockets, and it wasn't until he dismounted the other end that he turned to her and said, "Perhaps I'm just a rebel."

"You'd have to actually do something wrong for once in your life for that to be true," she taunted him—but just as she'd said it, he stepped back and tripped over branch. As if on perfect cue, _specifically_ to prove her wrong… Ferb fell flat on his butt.

"Oh my god!" Maybe she should have reached out for him, but she doubled over instead in irresistible waves of laughter. "You did that on purpose, didn't you!"

It was the stunned, amazed way that he was looking up at her, however, that convinced her it had actually been an accident, after all.

He _was_ human, she reminded herself. Albeit a human with super powers.

"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling him up as she tried to contain her giggles, and he nodded easily. She couldn't see really well enough to inspect him, but it was hard to miss the bark and leaves and other natural forest debris that clung to his bum now.

"Glad to know I'm not the only klutz around here," she muttered as she hastily brushed all dirt and crap off him—and it wasn't until Ferb let out something between a choke and a cough that it really registered she'd been touching his butt this whole time.

Her hands snapped of him, and she hesitantly looked up to meet his gaze. His piercing, horrendously teasing gaze.

"If you wanted to grope me, Isabella, you could have just said so."

Isabella blinked at him once. And then again. A third time, and a fourth time, too.

Then her embarrassment caught up to his words, and she shot away from him quicker than a whip.

"Ferbian Reginald Fletcher!" she cried with an indignant stomp of her foot.

"Isabella Sapphira Garcia-Shapiro?" he had the gall to respond like a question, using her rarely-shared middle name.

Her parents drew on their Hispanic heritage for so much that they had decided on the Hebrew name for _beautiful_ to use as her middle name, to honor her Jewish blood, too. They always thought it was so clever, since sapphira in Hebrew was linguistically equivalent to sapphire, too; and when she'd been born with blue eyes, they'd had no doubt.

But it made for a doozy of a full name—which was why she never used it!

"You—you're…"

"Incorrigible?" he offered.

When had he ever been this chatty anyway?

"Yes!" she declared (even though she didn't know the meaning of the word) as she stormed away from him, her face hot and her laughter uncontrollable; matching his vibrant keels of laughter from behind her.

Damn Brit.

She couldn't wait to see what kind of mischief they'd stir up tomorrow, but for now she was scandalized and she wanted him to know it!

Her cry of, "Like hell I'm ever going to try to help you again, Fletcher!" echoed through the woods, and when she made it to the steps of her cabin and turned around—the last thing she saw was breathtaking.

She saw Ferb grinning a cheeky little grin at her through the moonlight.

 _Damn Brit!_

But when she let her cabin door close behind her, it was with a smile.

* * *

 _Review, please!_

 _Tadaaaaa! We're 33.33333333333...% through this, Spazz! I hope you're liking it so far!_

 _The reason I'm enjoying this fic so much is because even with the prompt "Ferb is there for Isabella" not once do I have him actually comforting her while she cries about Phineas. This whole shipping community uses that a lot (heaven knows I do out the wazoo!) so I endeavored to write a story where that isn't even a trope in their relationship! It's been really refreshing for me! And I hope it has been so far for you too!_

 _See you in a couple days, where these precious babes are precious fifteen-year-olds doing precious things!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	4. Fifteen

_You know, I'm actually shocked I've managed to keep up with posting a new chapter every two days! This is kind of crazy XD_

 _By popular demand... I won't be writing crappy poetry in the AN haha. In my defense..._ _I never claimed to be poet._ _I never have been and I know it!_ _Whenever I try, I totally blow it... But at least I'm not afraid to show it!_

 _(See... I stipulate that covert rhyming when NOT in stanza form doesn't count as crappy poetry! It just counts as a crappy syntactical choice! Hah! Loophole!)_

 _I don't know why I'm in a rhyming kick. It amuses me haha. I feel I write much better fiction than I do poetry, but hey, as long as it makes you laugh (or snort in derision, I don't care) then my mission is complete!_

 _This one was a doozy to write! I hope you like it, and it would really mean a lot to me to hear what you think about it! A lot of effort went into this chapter! Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

FIFTEEN

* * *

Surprisingly, her _Jewish_ grandpa—her Sabba—wanted her to have a completely traditional quinceañera even more than her completely Hispanic, culturally-devoted abuelos on her mom's side. Then again, he'd always insisted Isabella was his little princess, so maybe that made sense.

They were going _all out._

There were the basics of just about any birthday party, like a buffet of food, balloons, banners, and an area for drinks. Because it was her quinceañera, it was an explosion of pink: the streamers, tables, chairs, confetti, candy, flowers— _everything._ And because Phineas and Ferb were in charge, even the leaves on the trees and the water in her backyard pool were pink!

Instead of setting up a few speakers and running a playlist off their phone, her friends built an entire stage. Her Fireside troop would be providing live music—usually Isabella was the lead singer of their little band, but tonight they'd be making due without her—and for the time they weren't playing, Ginger had volunteered to be the DJ.

D-Jinge was in the house!

Isabella would have been fine with a low-key affair; but that didn't mean she minded such an extravagant party! She'd always been comfortable with attention, and this all made her feel like a princess!

With her mother and her Sabba feeding off each other, they wanted to do _everything:_ the huge grand entrance, the Crowning Ceremony, the Change of Shoes, the Ceremonia de la Ultima Muñeca, a video all about her and her friends—the whole shebang.

The only thing they hadn't planned for already was whether or not they were doing the 15-Candle Ceremony. That was a part of some quinceañeras during which the quinceañera (the word referred to _both_ the party _and_ the fifteen-year-old girl herself) would pass out fifteen candles to people who had deeply impacted her life, giving a short speech for each of them.

Her mom left if up to her whether or not she wanted to do that; and Isabella _did,_ but not in the traditional way. She didn't want to make a big production over it. That didn't seem personal enough. So she had a different plan.

And, of course, the _dancing._ Her dad had two left feet, but he'd be her first dance. Then her Sabba (her dad's dad) and her abuelo (her mom's) were next. After that, there would be a lively dance where she'd be passed between all her cousins.

Once all of that was done came the pinnacle of the party: a very special (and romantic) dance between her and a boy of her choice. Naturally, she would be dancing with her Chambelan de Honor: one Mr. Phineas Flynn.

Yes indeed, Phineas was her Chambelan de Honor! He'd cheerily agreed when she'd asked him—she'd been a nervous wreck—and now he'd be the recipient of her one dance. She. Couldn't. Wait.

From there, they would all revel in Isabella's two favorite things: food and awesome, dance-worthy music.

But no matter what else they had planned for her party, Isabella always came back to her special dance with Phineas.

See, it wasn't just an ordinary dance; she'd done that plenty of times! This was different. At a quinceañera, the quinceañera—which was to say, _her_ —had the one dance with the boy of her choice in dim lights with slow music and everyone else watching like the celebrating crowd in a fairytale. It had taken a lot of guts to ask him and he'd said _yes_ and now they'd get their romantic dance! In front of everybody… with _Phineas._

Isabella froze where she stood. Gretchen had been adding curls to her hair while her other friends and family were setting things up, but she was no longer enjoying her pampering.

"Chief?" Gretchen questioned, but Isabella hardly heard her. She was too busy processing, fully, for the first time, the true weight of this evening. It could make the beginning of she and Phineas' forever—or it could mark the day her entire future, her everything, went up in flames.

It was instant: she _drowned_ in panic.

"Chief? Gretchen asked again, but Isabella had already rushed out the door.

She didn't care that she had half-curled hair and that she was still in her bathrobe. She rushed into her backyard, where the party preparation was entering its final stages. It was supposed to start in about an hour, after all.

"Feliz cumpleaños, Isa!" her mom said, wishing her happy birthday the moment she saw her for about the thirty-ninth time today.

"Mama, where's Ferb!" Isabella blurted out.

"Shouldn't you be asking where Phineas is?" her mom laughed suggestively, carrying a cooler she'd fill with sodas, but Isabella frantically shook her head.

"No, it needs to be Ferb. Have you seen him? I need to find him!"

Her mom stopped and stared at her for a second. Isabella couldn't really decipher the face she was making as she asked, "Why?"

Why did she need to find him? Because she was _panicking._ Why did it need to be Ferb? Because it was _Ferb!_

"Because he gets it! So I _need_ him, Mama. He'll know—"

She saw him round the corner carrying a strand of lights and she didn't even bother finishing her sentence. She raced to him and nearly knocked him over as she slammed into his chest. Ferb dropped the lights he'd been carrying, he was so surprised, and she let out a small laugh. Honestly, he must think she was crazy by now.

He immediately squeezed her shoulder: his silent way of asking her what was wrong.

"I'm freaking out, Ferb!" she declared, and he let out a snort that seemed to say, _Well, obviously._

He pulled back, running his hands along her arms reassuringly before he stooped to retrieve the lights he'd dropped. At first she was worried he was too busy to listen to her, but he sent her a smile and gestured for her to follow him and rant along the way.

So rant she did.

"It's too much pressure! What if I mess up? What if I step on his feet or have a cough attack or trip or tell a bad joke or my hands are too sweaty or I pass out or misread things and get rejected or—"

"Isabella," he scolded her, cutting off her breathless ramble, and she sucked air back into her neglected lungs. She mustered the courage to peek up at him from under her lashes, and his expression was just as reprimanding as his voice had been.

"Yes?" she sniffed, and he paused what he was doing. Then, of all things, Ferb crossed his arms and glared at her.

"Since when do you, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, get stage-fright?"

"Since so much was at stake!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "This is big, Ferb. It's my chance to get him to like me! To really _notice_ me, you know?"

Ferb pursed his lips and silently went back to stringing the lights. He made it all the way to the end without responding, and that was when she realized something.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in a small voice, and his expression softened.

"Not at you."

"At... who, then?" she was almost too afraid to say. "At Phineas?"

He faltered, then shook his head. She knew him well enough to know what he meant: he wasn't quite mad at someone in particular, but he was definitely feeling frustrated by something.

"Ferb," she said, taking his arm. "Talk to me."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked down. He was hesitant to answer, and she thought that was probably because he knew she wouldn't like what she heard.

"Ferb," she repeated, "seriously. Just tell me."

Ferb exhaled slowly. Painfully slowly.

"It's just... if the boy who made you feel this insecure weren't my brother, I'd be doing everything in my power to convince you to _sprint_ in the opposite direction."

"I'm not insecure," was the first thing she said. Then her defenses melted, and she was more truthful. "Okay, I am. But that's not _Phineas'_ fault."

He sighed and ran a hand along the back of his neck. Finally, he said, "It's hard for me to see you doubting yourself. That's all it is."

"Well…" She clasped her hands behind her back. "That's why I have you, right?"

He stopped rubbing his neck and tilted his head, as if to ask, _What do you mean?_

"Well, look!" she laughed. "I already feel better."

Perhaps most amazing of all, she _meant_ it. She threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. All the air left him in an audible puff, before she released him and took off for the house again.

"But… I didn't even do anything!" he called after her, and Isabella giggled to herself as she disappeared inside.

Of course he'd done something: he'd been _Ferb._ And if all that panic she'd felt made him frown like that? Well, that had made it startlingly easy to dismiss. She much preferred that baffled, pleased look that crossed his face just before she rushed back into her house.

She couldn't wait for later tonight; she had a special way to tell him thank you.

Wonderful, wonderful Gretchen didn't even say a thing as Isabella shuffled back into the bathroom and sat down. Just like that, she went back to curling the rest of her hair, and Isabella settled into psyching herself up. She just needed to remember to breathe. To not get caught up in this. To chase away the nervousness. Her dance with Phineas would be _fine._

She just needed to focus on other things, that was all!

"T-minus fifteen minutes, Chief," Gretchen chirped, finishing the last touches on her hair. Her makeup was already done, so she turned to her second-in-command with a smile.

"Well?"

"Resplendent," Gretchen responded with a grin. "You look amazing."

"You're just saying that because _you_ did my hair," Isabella laughed, surveying herself in the mirror. "But Candace really did a good job with my makeup! Help me with my dress?"

If she looked like a princess now, she couldn't _imagine_ how she would feel with her gown on.

After her epic dress mishap a couple years ago, Ferb had become her designated dress designer; she coerced him into making all her dresses now. And by that, she meant that she bribed him with her homemade horchata, which she made in large supply and kept him constantly stocked with while he worked on them.

This time, she'd gone the extra mile and made her abuela's champurrado—a far rarer treat than her horchata, though both drinks were delicious.

She had to keep him fueled; her quinceañera dress was a huge project, after all.

Isabella liked it when Ferb made her dresses because it also gave her an excuse to lounge in his giant England-style telephone box and chat his ear off. Ferb was a really, _really_ good listener. Easily the best she knew. It was part of why he meant so much to her.

The bodice of her quinceañera dress was a smooth, shapely run of cloth with a pink fabric rosette where one of the sleeves met her neckline. Her sleeves, by the way, were glittery pink pieces of gossamer that hung low across her arms, like an old-time princess ball gown; but with the slim cut of the torso as it flowed into the skirt—also covered in the glittery gossamer—it was a far cry from frumpy.

And to top it off? The glitter on the skirt was thicker in some places and made the prettiest swirling rose pattern!

Isabella had never felt more beautiful in her entire life than she had the moment she put that dress on.

She rushed down the stairs, eager to show her dress off—when she ran into none other than her Chambelan de Honor himself!

"Phineas!" she gasped, and she was so surprised to see him she almost tripped right then and there. She managed to catch herself—and she came face to face with Ferb, who had been reaching out as if to catch her, too. She hadn't seen him at first, but she waved him down. She'd saved herself this time, and she had this. She totally did.

Phineas was just now turning around, and he beamed when he saw her.

"Hey, Isabella, you look great!"

 _Yes!_

"Thanks, Phin," she giggled, holding her elbow out to him. "Where do you need me for my grand entrance?"

"All the guests are already being led into the backyard. Once they're all there, you'll go out the front door and enter with your dad through the backyard gate, too!"

He accepted her gesture and looped his arm through hers. Isabella couldn't believe it! The oblivious one actually followed a social cue! This was _fantastic._ As he walked with her toward the door, she glanced back at Ferb and gave him a thumbs up.

But she didn't understand his expression right now… The hard line of his features as he watched her walk away. Why didn't he follow?

"And that's the order of things," Phineas concluded, and it was only then that Isabella realized she'd missed _everything_ he'd just said. She snapped back to attention, which was kind of futile by the point Phineas asked, "Make sense?"

"Uh, yup."

She'd figure it out later. She was more concerned with why, when she glanced back now, Ferb was nowhere to be seen at all.

He probably had some stuff he had to do, though. Usually Phineas and he tackled projects together, and it hadn't occurred to her that with Phineas as her Chambelan de Honor, it probably left Ferb with a lot more responsibility to keep things running.

The time before her party began drained away in a flash. She made her grand entrance, passing through the gate of her backyard to the smiling faces of all her friends and family. She made her initial rounds, Phineas at her side, as she said hi to all her family first.

" _Mit mazl geyert zikh_ ," her sabba told her, patting her hand, and as soon as they moved on, Isabella leaned toward Phineas to explain.

"Its sort of the Hebrew way to wish a happy birthday. It translates to 'adding a year should bring good luck.' There's not really a true equivalent to the words _happy birthday_ themselves."

Phineas nodded enthusiastically. She knew he liked learning quirky stuff like that.

Next came the Change of Shoes: her mama presented a pink, sparkly pair of heels, and while Isabella sat in a chair, her mom exchanged them for the simple pair of flats she'd been wearing initially. It was meant to symbolize growing into her womanhood or something, but she was too focused on how _comfy_ these heels were to be too embarrassed by that thought.

God, she could kiss Ferb! She knew only he could have designed high heels this comfortable.

Really, she could thank that boy every single day of her life and she still didn't think he'd understand how much she appreciated him.

It was her abuela who was the chosen family member for the Crowning Ceremony. She brought out a silver tiara—the exact same one _she'd_ used at her own quinceañera, almost 55 years ago—and placed it on Isabella's head.

For the Ceremonia de la Ultima Muñeca, her dad gave her a beautiful doll that was dressed up exactly like she was tonight. She knew it would be a keepsake forever.

They all dove right into the food—and Isabella was as giddy as could be because she had a table set up for Phineas and her. Phineas was chatting about how he'd turned the water and leaves pink, and Isabella was transfixed by the seemingly glass dance floor that now stretched over the surface of her pool.

It made so much sense. Isabella had questioned how they would have enough room for eating _and_ dancing in her backyard, and Phineas and Ferb had told her to trust them. Well, now she understood. Her pool _was_ the dance floor. At least, the water provided a beautiful backdrop—underdrop?—for it. It probably wasn't even glass, but something even fancier that Phineas could get his hands on, so it wouldn't break.

Her troop had played music softly in the background for all of this, but for the next part of the ceremony, they rushed down from stage and glomped Isabella. Phineas, Ferb, Buford, and Baljeet hovered close, too, for something Isabella had been eagerly anticipating: the presentation of a video slideshow that had been put together by her friends.

Isabella had to admit… she cried. She was a total goner.

Pictures of her in a backyard wading pool with Phineas and Ferb, her getting her first patches with her troopmates, playing dress up with her mom's makeup, shopping with Candace and Linda, their smiling group completing community service projects, cultural festivals with her parents. And even more Phineas and Ferb. _Lots_ of pictures of her with Phineas and Ferb.

She wanted to say something to Phineas about it, to thank him, obviously, but as soon as it was over, her mom stepped onto the stage holding the microphone.

"Again I would like to thank everyone for coming," she said. "It has been such a special night so far to celebrate such a special girl, mi cariña Isa. And for anyone who knows my little Isa, they know now is the time when we will be getting to what is sure to be her favorite part of the evening: _the dancing."_

Her dances with her dad, her sabba, her abuelo, and the manically paced one with all her cousins went by _way_ too quickly, and anxiety started prickling at her stomach.

The song her troop was playing came to an end, and she let go of her tia's hand. Her mom picked back up the mic and took to the stage again.

Oh boy. This was it.

"To those who are unfamiliar with quinceañera tradition, my quinceañera Isa gets to have one last very special dance with the recipient of her choice: her Chambelan de Honor, Phineas."

Phineas beamed as he bound to the center of the dance floor.

Isabella forced herself to swallow her nerves as she gazed at him, smoothing out her skirt—not that it was wrinkled, but it gave her hands something to do. She was about to step forward, but just before she could, she felt someone take her hand. He tugged her to a stop, and she blinked up at Ferb.

"Huh?" she questioned, and he smiled softly at her.

"You have every reason to be confident, Isabella," he told her as he let her go, and she stared at him for a second.

 _Confident._ Right. She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

"I know. Thanks, Ferb!"

She practically marched onto that dance floor and pulled Phineas to her. It was all happening so quickly—too quickly for the gravity of it all to reach her, really—and their dance began.

"Are you having fun?" Phineas asked her as they began to sway, and Isabella nodded eagerly.

"Absolutely! This is all _amazing_ , Phineas."

"It's not too shabby," he agreed nonchalantly, proudly observing their surroundings. She waited for him to look back to her before she spoke.

"I wanted to say thanks for that video. It was so cool!"

"Oh thanks!" Phineas lit up. "We spent a long time getting all those pictures together, it was a real team effort! But Ferb was the one who actually put it all into video, you know. He chose the order and songs and everything."

Isabella took a second to process that. "He did?"

"Oh yeah," Phineas laughed. "He was pretty adamant about it, and none of us were going to argue. Seemed like a good choice, and it sounds like you liked it!"

She honestly wasn't even surprised.

"I loved it," she said, almost to herself, before Phineas spun her under his arm.

"I was actually shocked you chose me to be your Chambelan de Honor," he said. "I mean, I'm happy to! I just didn't see it coming."

Isabella nearly stumbled, but thankfully Phineas kept her upright as she blurted out, " _What?"_

"Well, I thought you'd pick Ferb. At least, I didn't understand why you'd choose me before you did Ferb. I just thought he would have been your first pick."

 _That's because you don't know that I like you,_ she thought with a purse of her lips. But she couldn't very well explain that to him; she was way too nervous to even consider that!

"I even talked to him before I said yes, just because it didn't really make sense to me. But he said I should definitely do it. He said it'd be a lot more special that way." Phineas shrugged. "I've sure had a good time!"

As if she needed something else to prove Ferb was amazing! She'd have to thank him for assuring Phineas he should be her Chambelan de Honor now, too! She mentally added that to the list. She swore she'd find a way to make it up to him someday! She wouldn't forget!

"You're not a bad dance partner," Isabella said, batting her eyelashes, and Phineas nodded.

"Thanks! I'm amazed you're dancing so well in heels," he laughed. "Those things always looked like walking deathtraps to me."

Not the response she'd been hoping for… but she supposed she'd just have to take it.

For some reason, her mind was going blank. She'd built up a whole repertoire of things she'd say to him while they were dancing—ways she could subtly flirt—but for some reason they'd all dumped right out of her brain, and she could feel the beginnings of panic. Phineas didn't really _do_ silent, and she wasn't sure how to navigate that with him.

Her eyes scanned the crowd briefly, trying to find Ferb (because she knew he had, like, a million of ways to telepathically send comfort waves; he'd proven it before), but she couldn't find him. He must have slipped to the back of the crowd.

Phineas said a few more things here and there, but it wasn't long until their dance was over.

They were met with resounding cheers as everyone clapped and whistled. This dance was always a huge deal in Hispanic tradition, and she was sure her family didn't miss the significance. Blushing, she made her way back toward the stage—and she finally saw Ferb again.

Like she suspected, he was hanging back a little bit. He was clapping, too, a little bit slower than everybody else. She could tell why: it was to emphasize the sarcasm in his expression. With that smirk of his, he seemed to be saying, _Lo and behold, you actually survived._

Smug Brit. But damn it if seeing that didn't make her want to laugh!

That was when the idea came to her, and Isabella was suddenly on stage before her mind could really catch up. When it did catch up, she'd already taken the mic from her mom; and by that point, there was no going back.

"Um, hi, everyone," she said into the mic, and she was met with a few chuckles, since she couldn't help but sound timid right now. Her friends and family generally quieted down, though; listening to the birthday girl speak.

"Thank you, of course. I'm so happy and touched that you're here! But I was thinking… I know technically we're supposed to be done with the formal dancing. Sabba and Abuelo and mi familia, I love you all. I also had my final, special dance with my Chambelan de Honor."

Phineas beamed up at her from down below, and she returned the gesture; but she exhaled, held her head high, and followed through on what she'd decided:

"But I want to bend the rules a bit and have one more extra fancy dance with the person who is probably my best friend on the entire planet." She laughed and grinned at her grandpa. "Sorry, Sabba, but I'm breaking tradition. One dance just isn't enough."

She passed the mic back to her mom and bound down the steps of the stage. Ferb looked so stunned when she took his hands, and that made everything worth it, right there.

"Come on, Ferb," she laughed as she pulled him onto the dance floor, but Ferb—suave, composed _Ferb_ —was stumbling over his own feet. She'd really taken him by surprise, and that made her feel so warm and bubbly inside. It was awfully hard taking someone by surprise when they could always read your mind! This was _amazing._

"Isabella?" he choked out, still blinking at her with wide eyes as they came to a stop in the middle of the dance floor.

"It's just one dance, Ferb," she giggled, actually putting his hand on her waist when he faltered. Man, she hadn't even needed to do that with Phineas! She could hardly believe it!

She wondered why he was so dumbstruck right now. This really wasn't so crazy, was it? She was _so_ happy to give him a dance! He had to know he meant that much to her.

Thankfully, once her troop started playing a song, her usual Ferb resurfaced, and his fingers tightened around hers. He still looked a little daze, but he returned her smile as they began to move.

"Thanks for my video," she told him right off the bat. He nodded, but she wasn't done. "Really, Ferb. It was amazing. But you could have made something that wouldn't make me cry! In front of _everybody,_ you jerk!"

His lips pressed together with a happy little smile and he shrugged.

"And thanks for keeping this whole thing running," she added on. "Both the planning and the execution. And for making me feel confident earlier. And for my dress! And—"

"You're welcome, Isabella," he chuckled. As always, his voice was warmth in sound form. It reminded of her velvet: soft and rich. And because it was _Ferb_ , it was teasing, too; and she scoffed as she shook her head at him.

"I don't even know why I bother," she grumbled, and at his exasperated expression, she corrected: "Actually, honestly, I don't even know why _you_ bother, putting up with me all the time as I bounce all over the place."

She'd been kidding—mostly, ish—but he surprised her by actually answering.

"Because you, Isabella, are pure sunshine; and I adore your warmth and light."

She snorted.

"Ferb, I'm serious! You see, like, the worst side of me."

He raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging her to explain. She thought it should be pretty obvious, though.

"You should know exactly what I mean! Everyone else knows me as this great, strong, confident, _composed_ leader who's never afraid to take charge and look after people. And when it comes to you, somehow, some way, it always seems like you see me at my worst. When I'm falling apart or freaking out or completely miserable. You're always seeing me when I'm an absolute _wreck."_

His expression softened into one that clearly asked, _Is that so wrong?_ and Isabella shook her head.

"It's not like it's wrong, exactly. Like, I know we're way past me being able to scare you away; you know what you've signed up for here!" She laughed. "It's just… it's not the most attractive side of me. And I feel like it's always _you_ that somehow gets roped into dealing with it."

He lifted his arm for her to turn under, and when she'd twirled and come back against him, he let out an appreciative hum.

"Isabella, there is no side to you that isn't unequivocally enchanting."

He sounded like he genuinely meant it; and she had no reason not to believe him. Ferb always told it to her straight, and he spoke to her in the same way now... but still, that doubtful, little voice inside of her bubbled back up to the surface and made her shake her head.

"But what about when I'm being so insecure?" she asked. "Like earlier." She couldn't imagine insecurity ever being enchanting.

He pursed his lips, and then sighed. "Isabella… you're only so insecure when you're worried about impressing Phineas."

Maybe? But it wasn't like that was _crazy_.

"I mean… that kind of comes with the territory when you like someone, right?" she responded. "You automatically question how you look and sound and if you're being stupid or not. It goes hand-in-hand with having a crush."

He was nodding now, and after he'd twirled her again, his expression was far gentler.

"Perhaps, with a crush. But _love,_ Isabella, shouldn't make you feel this insecure. When you really love someone, they don't make you question who you are, sweaty hands or not."

Isabella blinked at him, her mouth going dry… Because…

"You sound like you're talking from personal experience," she pointed out, and promptly looked down.

"No. Sorry."

"Sorry?" she snorted. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

He nodded, his expression adamantly insisting, _I do._

"I have no right to lecture you, Isabella," he said quietly, spinning her again. "I'm even worse when it comes to love than you are."

There was a degree of hopelessness in his words now, and it made her heart _bleed._ She found herself letting go of his hand and shoulder to wrap her arms around his neck, and his chest was soft and warm underneath her cheek. His heartbeat was a steady thrum she felt just as much as she heard, and she exhaled at the comfort it provided.

Ferb didn't quite seem to know what to do with himself at first, but he moved his now-vacant hand to her hip, and they continued to sway to the music, a little bit slower than before. She could never really express the affection she felt for him in words—at least, she'd been kind of unsuccessful so far—so she tried to do it like this, in actions. She imagined Ferb was more comfortable with that anyway.

"So you like someone you can't have too, huh?" she muttered. He didn't say anything, but his muscles tensed under her hands, and that was an answer in itself. "They can't possibly be more oblivious than Phineas, though," she mused, and his chest shook under her cheek with a silent laugh. Once again, that was the only answer he gave.

She scrunched her nose up in thought, remembering Ferb had only shown interest in one girl, as far as her memory banks were telling her.

"It's, uh... _Vanessa_ , right?" she guessed.

He didn't nod or anything, but Isabella knew Vanessa had been his first real crush, and Ferb would tell her if he liked someone else, wouldn't he? He would have told her all the times she asked him for advice about Phineas, or he would have told her during their shared study period, or hell, all the time she spent lounging in his telephone box, yammering away while he worked on one project or another. As it was, Vanessa was the only possibility she could come up with.

"I didn't realize you were so persistent," she probed, and his lips curled coyly.

 _I'm_ very _persistent,_ this smile seemed to say.

"After all this time, if she can't see how amazing you are... I guess I'm kind of surprised you haven't moved on," she said, and after a moment, he sighed. It was a huge sigh, one that picked up his shoulders and forced her to tighten her hold, even as she looked back up at him.

"I mean, you're such a catch," she added, smoothing out his collar. "Ferb Fletcher: genius, British, handsome, _bachelor..._ If this girl can't see that, she needs to stop hogging your heart!"

He was looking at her with something close to amusement, something close to disappointment... Then, finally, he spoke.

"I suppose she just keeps doing little things that tug at my heart, and I can't help but fall for her all over again, no matter how hard I try not to."

Wow... Isabella didn't realize he was in that deep. Maybe he actually _was_ just as bad at this romance stuff as she was...

"This going to sound _super_ ridiculous coming from me, but have you ever considered telling her?"

He quickly shook his head.

"Well, why not?" she asked—never mind the fact she'd never been able to confess to Phineas in, like, seven years. Details...

He smirked and she knew he was thinking the exact same thing she was; but he continued to surprise her by responding, "She's beyond my reach. Believe me."

Well, Vanessa was twenty. Almost twenty-one. Isabella couldn't recall what exactly it was she was doing these days: college or working or whatever. She was pretty sure Vanessa's dad still lived downtown, but that was about it. Yeah, she'd say Vanessa was pretty beyond Ferb's reach.

His sad smile made her think maybe she should let this go; but that didn't stop her from saying, "Well, what do you like about her so much?" She hoped the question wouldn't upset him. Thankfully, he grinned, and it was refreshingly cheeky after his more reserved expressions from before.

"She's fun to talk to."

Isabella burst into laughter. "I can't quite tell if that was a joke or not." Then she took in his expression. And she realized he wasn't kidding. She snapped her mouth shut as unease tiptoed up her spine. When she finally let out the breath she'd been holding, she said, "Oh. I guess I didn't realize the two of you talked that much."

He shook his head in that same exasperated way that he had at several points in the day today, before he nodded in confirmation.

"Well... I guess I can't blame her," she decided. "I think you're _my_ favorite person to talk to! Even when you don't do much talking." He looked away, his lips pressed together tightly, and she found herself reaching up and poking his cheek. When his eyes darted back to her again, she couldn't help but laugh, "But you've been extra chatty tonight! It's actually been kind of awesome! The best birthday present ever!"

He quickly looked away again, and Isabella was shocked to realize she might have actually managed to embarrass him! Man oh man, if _that_ embarrassed him, she couldn't wait to see how he'd react later, when she gave him his candle.

It was only then that she realized their dance was over. She was _pretty_ sure the song just ended, but she wasn't entirely certain. Admittedly, she hadn't been paying super close attention. She let go of him with a huge smile and said, "Thanks, Ferb. And I mean that for _everything._ "

The crowd clapped just like they had for all the other dances, and as Ferb retreated back to the edge of things, her mom made the announcement that everyone should eat more food—they had _plenty—_ and dance and mingle. D-Jinge took charge of the music, and the rest of her troop rushed her, eager to be her first dance partners as everyone else closed in on the dance floor, too.

She danced for a whole _hour_ straight, sometimes with her friends, sometimes with a family member, until her mom invited her to open presents. Those who were interested crowded around her.

Her friends got her pretty dresses and new bows. Some of her family got her beautiful bracelets and earrings. Baljeet got her a calculator—apparently it was a really nice one! She couldn't help but laugh. Buford... got her a free-workout coupon for the gym down the street that she could tell was plucked straight from his mail; but that was Buford for you. And of course she had that one aunt who got her a book about managing finances.

Phineas and Ferb's gift had been orchestrating this entire party—which is why she was surprised to see a small package from them in the mix. She recognized Ferb's neat script on the tag, though it said it was from both Flynn-Fletcher brothers. She tore into it, and immediately fell in love with what she saw.

It was Phineas, Ferb, and her standing in their pajamas with soaking wet hair, all holding onto each other and laughing in front of a backdrop of trees. This picture had been taken during their Student Council retreat, after they'd all fallen into the lake. It was right after Phineas cracked a joke. She didn't even remember what was said, but she still remembered laughing so hard her sides hurt.

This would be going right on her desk, front and center.

She danced a bit more, but with cake on the to-do list so soon, she decided she wanted to execute her plan now, rather than later, before any of the people she needed to talk to left.

She was doing the 15-Candle Ceremony a bit differently than was typical. Instead of making a huge production out of it, she had fifteen gold candles she planned to give to her chosen recipients face-to-face. No one else needed to hear her spiel of reasons they mattered to her other than the person themselves, and it felt so much more personal that way.

She lit the candle right before she tracked them down to give it to them. She would go through her speech, pass it over when she was finished, and they would blow it out. That was how she pictured it, and the candle was theirs to keep.

She'd carefully created her list. Her mom and dad. Abuelo and Abuela, Sabba, and Linda and Lawrence. She'd given them their candles in groups: her parents, her grandparents, then her surrogate parents. She wasn't ashamed to admit she got teary-eyed when telling them how much they meant to her.

Usually candles all went to family members, but Isabella hadn't been able to resist giving one to each of her troopmates, too: Gretchen, Ginger, Adyson, Milly, Katie, and Holly. Her life would not be even an ounce of what it was if she weren't a Fireside Girl with those amazing friends. They pushed each other, developed skills, and faced challenges together. They were irreplaceable to her, and she'd given them their candles all at once.

And of course a candle went to Phineas. She'd been too nervous about accidentally revealing her feelings, so she'd stumbled through her prepared speech for him. She'd initially considered maybe confessing to him with the candle? But her nerves had quickly quelled the idea, and she stuck to how much fun she always had with him, and how much he'd shaped her life.

God, this was so emotional! Gretchen—bless her—had stepped in to refresh her makeup between each go. At least the hard part was almost over.

She had one more candle to give out; and she found its recipient hanging toward the back of the crowd. _Of course._ Some things never changed.

"You trying to hide, Fletcher?" she teased as she pushed through the throng of people and came up in front of him.

He shrugged as if to say, _You caught me,_ and it made her laugh. Oh, but she wouldn't be distracted!

"I have a present for you," she told him, and from behind her back, she pulled out his tall, gold, _unlit_ candle. Ferb's eyebrows lifted in surprise; he knew about the 15-Candle Ceremony but it was clear he hadn't expected one. She thought it was a bit silly for him to be taken aback right now. Of course she'd be giving one of her candles to him!

"I've already given everyone else theirs," she told him. "Those candles were lit while I told them why they mattered to me, but since I always seem to trip around you… Eh, I thought why tempt fate, you know?"

Ferb lifted a hand to his mouth, his eyes flicking from the candle to her face, there and back again. She couldn't help but smile as she looked down at the candle in her hands, too.

"It was actually kind of hard finding a way to articulate how much you mean to me, Ferb, and how much I appreciate you. I always tease you, saying you have super powers, and stuff. That was always my way of expressing my amazement at how well you know and support me. You never read my mind; you just know me that well. And it's really incredible.

"I think back through my favorite memories, and you're always there. Sometimes center stage, like the eighth grade formal, and sometimes in the background, like all the times we played when we were little. But any way you cut it, you've always been there, Ferb. And I love you for that, you know? I always have.

"So I know I said it before, up on the stage, but I wanted to make sure I told you in person, face to face." She held the candle out to him. "You're my best friend, Ferb. You have been for years."

Because it was Ferb, she hadn't expected him to say anything; but he immediately blurted out, " _Me?"_ like it was the most preposterous thing in the world. Like he didn't believe it.

"Yes, _you_ ," she confirmed with a giggle. "Really. There's no one I can count on more and no one I need to talk to more when my world is tilting. Don't tell any of the girls, of course," she grinned, "but you truly are my closest and greatest and _best_ friend on the whole planet."

Once he took the candle, she clasped her hands behind her back, beaming up at him as he studied the gift. It looked like he was trying to glean some dire message from the object with the sheer force of his eyes alone, so she waited to see what he would say.

He didn't say anything, however. Instead, he cupped her cheek, and she stood in shock as he stepped forward and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Ferb?" she breathed, blinking once, twice. His mouth was so warm against her skin, and she wondered if this was how it felt when she always kissed people on the cheek. She closed her eyes, thinking it felt nice. It was so comforting and inviting.

When he pulled back, she bit her lip when she realized his eyes were watering. Honest to goodness, he looked like he was barely containing tears. Oh, Ferb… He was so sweet!

"Thank you, Isabella," he said. His voice was brimming with emotion, and he cleared his throat. "I will cherish it."

Seeing him get emotional was starting to make her emotional too, so she punched him in the arm. This only amused him, and hearing his quiet laugh made her shoot forward and push up on her tiptoes. She kissed him gently on the temple, and when she pulled back, that stunned look was back on his face.

She could get used to taking him by surprise, really.

"Come on, Fletcher," she said, slowly stepping away from him, surfacing from their little bubble to rejoin the party. There was quite a bit of celebration left to enjoy, after all. She grinned at him from over her shoulder and beckoned him on.

"Stop standing in the corner, you weirdo. Cake is next, and you know how much I love red velvet!"

Ferb rolled his eyes. But of course he followed.

* * *

 _Review, please! Like I said at the beginning of the chapter, I worked my butt off and wrote this 18-pager in two days! I would love to hear what you think about it!_

 _There you go, Spazz! Fifteen! Our kids are finally starting to tiptoe into grownups, and relationships are gaining more emotional depth. I hope you enjoyed this chapter._

 _See you all for the next one!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	5. Sixteen

_Spazzumtard has weighed in:_

 _She likes my awful poetry._

 _So it has stayed in!_

 _Even if you laugh at me XD_

 _Feel free! Haha (see, I'm laughing at myself, too!)_

 _To the anonymous guest reviewer who left me such a kind and touching review last chapter: thank you so much! I'm very flattered by your comments, and super appreciate that you took the time to review! Your words meant a lot to me!_

 _I'm happy you all liked my last chapter. Please enjoy the next!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

SIXTEEN

* * *

This was pointless.

Isabella banged her head against the wall once, twice.

There just wasn't enough time! Stupid regulations and stupid thorough exams. She knew Danville was one of the few cities that required its citizens to pass a portion of their driving exam showing proficiency in manual transmissions. It wasn't standard in most places, but it was here. Lucky her.

Her mom's car wasn't manual. She sure as hell knew the car she'd eventually be getting wouldn't be manual. Why did she need to know how to drive one? And with her stuffy, tired driving instructor, she hadn't done very well in practice. She couldn't get a feel for when she needed to shift or where she needed to shift to, and don't even get her started on the freaking clutch!

She hit her head a third time, a fourth.

"Isa, porfa bebe, ten cuidado or you're going to wear a groove in your wall," her mom warned with a laugh, stopping by Isabella's door with a basket of laundry in her hands. "Even if you struggle with one part of the test, I'm sure you'll still pass. You'll be just fine tomorrow."

Her mom didn't _get it._ Isabella didn't _do_ "just fine." Isabella did _excellence._ She took charge and excelled because that was what a good leader did. Isabella took that mantle seriously. How could she still justify being president of all those clubs, vying for a head role on Student Council, aspire to go into International Relations... if she was only "just fine" at something? No, it wouldn't do. If she could keep up with Phineas and Ferb and ace all her college prep courses, she needed to ace her driving test, too.

Only she _wouldn't._ That much was clear, because she couldn't freaking drive a manual transmission! So here she was, wallowing. It wasn't even like she could practice! They only owned automatics, and the testing facility was long closed.

She took comfort in complaining to Phineas and Ferb. Long, angry, ranting texts made her feel a little better, though Phineas' encouraging responses were a little disheartening. No matter how many times he told her she could do it, she knew she couldn't. She just had to hope she scored well enough on the rest of her test that she could still pass even if she bombed the one part.

God, after all this time with Phineas, you'd think she knew how to handle failure; but she didn't. At least not failure that she could only blame on herself. With Phineas, she knew his obliviousness was part of it. It wasn't necessarily her fault, considering the huge barrier in her way. She knew she had been doing the best with what she'd been given. Her failure tomorrow, however, would be completely on her.

She hit her head a fifth time, a sixth.

Someone cleared their throat, and Isabella jumped. _Ferb_ was standing in her doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame.

"Ferb!" she yelped, almost dropping her phone. "Wha— _oh my god,_ you _scared_ me! What the hell!"

She snatched a stuffed unicorn from her bed and threw it at him, but he swatted it away with ease. She threw her pillow next, already laughing by the time he knocked this one away, too.

But as soon as she was done throwing things, she bound across the room and practically jumped on him. He was prepared for it, and he instantly returned her hug as she let down a long, frustrated groan.

After a moment of reveling in the comfort of his hug, she pulled back and asked, "So what'cha doin' here, Fletcher?"

He put his hands in his pockets and nodded down at the phone in her hands. _Oh._ Yeah, well, she supposed he knew about her troubles. Obviously her mom let him in, and Isabella made mental note to rant at her later. The last thing she needed was someone seeing her wallow like this, sulking in her inevitable failure. Not that Ferb hadn't seen that before.

Ferb crossed to her closet and pulled out a hoodie. He held it out to her with a smirk, and her eyes narrowed.

"Are we going somewhere?"

The only response he gave her was a smile, and when he started walking out, she scrambled to follow. She'd learned a long, long time ago that if she wanted to be happy, she should always follow him. Especially when he had that determined gleam in his eyes.

"Ferb?" she asked again as she trailed him down the stairs, and when he stopped by the door, he nudged her shoes toward her with his feet. Well. She supposed that was an answer, in its own way.

"Oh, I don't know." She worried her lip. "I'm such a wreck about this test tomorrow. Maybe I should just go to sleep." She'd eaten her dinner in silence earlier, and with the sun setting outside, maybe she just needed to let tomorrow's disaster come.

Ferb pulled his own keys from his pocket, but stopped halfway out the door. His eyes seemed to see right through her, and when he tilted his head, imploring her to come, she found she couldn't really stop her feet from taking her forward. She slipped her hoodie on with a resigned sigh and made her way to the passenger seat of his car.

Smug Brit. His car was a manual transmission—and of course it was, because Ferb could do literally _anything,_ she was sure—and it was like he was mocking her, driving so effortlessly to wherever it was they were going. No matter how hard she stared at him, she still couldn't make sense of when he shifted, _why_ he shifted.

"I kind of hate you right now. You passed your driving test with flying colors! A perfect score," she grumbled, and when he shrugged she blew her cheeks out in frustration. "Oh, don't give me that. Seriously! How are you so perfect all the time? It's just not fair."

He laughed for real and shook his head, like he thought her statement was preposterous. It didn't matter if he did, though; she knew the truth.

"You laugh, but how else do you explain your _perfect_ score? No student driver ever gets a perfect score. You're inhuman, Ferb. It's just a fact."

"Or it means you had a grandfather who was a mechanic and taught you how to drive since you were five," he chuckled. Isabella supposed that was a fair point, but still... she wasn't buying it. Maybe he was an alien. That would explain the constant awe she felt at how completely in control he always was, how he always had the answers. Even if he were an alien, he would still be her favorite person.

Besides Phineas. Right. _Phineas_ was her favorite person. Not Ferb.

Okay, so maybe they were tied! But still.

"Yeah, well... that's true, but I earned patches in traffic safety, motor engineering, and mechanics. I shouldn't have any excuse either, but I still suck."

Whatever response he might have had—verbal or otherwise—was cut off when Isabella saw where they were.

"Googleplex Mall?" She glanced at the clock. "It's past eight. All the stores are closed by now."

He nodded, but pulled into the empty parking lot anyway. That was when she realized what was happening.

"Oh! Oh no, Ferb, I don't—I can't—"

He turned off the car and stepped out, and she could only watch with dread as he crossed in front and opened her door. She had to swallow hard when he held the keys out to her.

"No, Ferb! No, I'm going to grind your gearbox or—"

"Any damage you inflict I can easily remedy," he cut her off, holding the keys a little bit closer. "But I don't think that will be necessary."

The look in his eyes was unrelenting, but above all else, it was _challenging._ Damn him. Isabella could never refuse a challenge.

"It's your car's funeral," she muttered when she finally accepted his hand. He pulled her out and, once she had his keys, she made her way to her pyre. Now, on top of everything else, she got to embarrass herself in front of Ferb, too. _Again._

But, she supposed if she hadn't scared him away yet…

Seated and buckled, she hesitated before putting the keys in ignition.

"You do realize this is illegal, right?" she laughed. "I've only got my permit and you're not my legal guardian or a certified driving instructor." Then something occurred to her, because this was _Ferb_ she was talking to. "Er, you're not a certified driving instructor, right?"

He snorted, his smirk teasing.

"No, Isabella. But the lot is vacant, and seeing as my brother and I are honorary members of the City Council, I doubt we'll get a ticket."

His voice was sweet as honey, but she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her. Many butt. This was very serious business!

"Okay..." she sighed, and the shake of his head told her to stop putting it off. She bit her lip and turned the key.

Aaaaaand… nothing happened.

"You have to—"

"Press the clutch in to get the engine started!" Isabella remembered. "Right."

She pushed the clutch in, and this time the engine came to life. Perfect. She took hold of the gearshift and forced herself to breathe. Now the humiliation could begin.

"The clutch," he said, and she nodded.

"Lets me interact with the transmission. _That much_ I know. I've got to press on it to shift gears."

"While taking your foot off the gas," he added quietly. "Otherwise you will rev the car up too high and make clean shifting difficult." He trailed his fingers along the gearshift. "One through five plus reverse. Higher gears go faster but lower gears speed up faster: more power versus more torque to optimize gas efficiency and minimize stress on the engine."

Isabella watched him, wondering if she'd ever heard him talk so much. It was almost hard to focus on what he was saying simply because, while she'd heard him talk several times, she didn't think she'd ever heard him sound so _confident._ She supposed she shouldn't be surprised; they were talking mechanics. They were in Ferb's element.

He covered her hand with his, placing his own fingers between hers to get a good grip on the shift, and moved it to the middle of the gearbox.

"This is true middle: neutral. That means the transmission is completely disconnected from the engine. When the driver pushes the clutch—"

"That also puts the car in neutral," she guessed, "so I can switch it."

Ferb nodded and gestured ahead, indicating she should start moving. She felt a little better after his explanation—she understood a little how manuals worked, at the very least—but all that theory didn't necessarily translate into practice.

"I start in first," she sighed, recalling that much from her stupid driver's ed. After his explanation, though, she added, "Because the lower gear has more torque. Torque means more rotations on the engine, which is going to get the car moving with a little more _umph_ , right?"

Yeah, she learned some things growing up with Phineas and Ferb. She wasn't a super genius like them, but she had always held her own with their crazy physics-defying antics. She pushed the clutch and shifted into first, and when she looked up to Ferb for approval, she wasn't prepared for the smile she saw on his face. There was something close to pride in it—pride and… she didn't know. She couldn't name it.

Feeling encouraged, she switched from the clutch to the gas.

And just like that, the car sputtered to a stop.

Frickin— _ugh!_ She _hated_ manual cars!

"Ferb!" she whined, slamming her head against the backrest, "I'm not even moving yet and I stalled your car! I'm so sorry!"

He motioned for her to breathe, and when she could only shake her head, he sighed.

"Everyone who drives manual has stalled a car before, Isabella. Especially when they're learning."

"Not you," she grumbled, and he scoffed.

"Of course I have."

Isabella's gaze shot up to him and she blinked. Then again and again. "You've stalled?"

Ferb shrugged. "Several times."

"Oh my gosh, that makes me feel so much better!" she exhaled, before realizing that sounded weird. "I mean, not trying to insult you or anything, but if _you've_ messed up doing it—and you're, like, perfect, Ferb, I swear—then I don't feel so bad doing it, too."

He rolled his eyes and gestured to her feet.

"You need to rev the engine a little as you take your foot off the clutch. You want the rpm to match the torque required for the gear you're shifting into."

"That," she grumbled as she turned the car back on. "That's the part I don't get, Ferb. I'm just not cut out for this!"

"It's hard to understand when you're first learning," Ferb said, running his hand across the dashboard. "You eventually come to feel it, matching pressure for torque. The timing of it all. It—" he faltered, swallowed hard, "It was something my grandfather could do in his sleep. He felt the precise moment he needed to shift. The gear would catch like he'd never tampered with the transmission at all."

He trailed off and went quiet. Isabella knew what he was thinking about. It had been a hard year in the Flynn-Fletcher house. For Ferb, especially.

Her hands abandoned the wheel and took his face instead. She ran her thumbs slowly over his cheeks, letting him absorb all the love and understanding in her eyes. He'd always been there for her, but the past seven months, she'd been there for _him_. He'd needed her, and as always, Isabella rose to the occasion.

She'd never seen him cry before his grandpa passed away, but she'd seen him cry several times since, in quiet, private moments she knew he didn't really let anyone else see. Phineas shut down in the presence of sorrow and Ferb figured his mom and dad had enough of their own to deal with, so he'd kept it in for a while.

Isabella had been able to tell instantly. She could see it in the crease of his brow, the line of his lips, the curve of his posture. He was drowning in pent-up pain. So she'd lied about needing help for a school project just so he would come over; and she'd cracked open those grief gates with a sledgehammer.

She knew Ferb showed more emotion with her than he usually did otherwise, but even she was taken aback by how honest he had been to his grief, once it was just the two of them. They'd sat on her bed, and she'd held him as he cried for hours. Like so many other things he did, even Ferb's tears tended to be silent, measured only by his sniffles and the liquid that pooled against her skin.

He'd cried so long that night that he'd accidentally stayed over; they'd both fallen asleep right there on her bed. Considering the context, neither of their parents mentioned it or gave them a hard time about it. And in the morning, when she was giggling and teasing him that they'd "slept together," he'd merely shrugged and stated he'd never slept better. That had been enough to fluster the teasing right out of her.

"I know," she told him, trying to communicate a million things with only two words, and he nodded. He took one of her hands and slowly kissed her knuckles before he returned it to the top of the gearshift. His fingers squeezed hers then, though he wasn't meeting her eyes. She knew that meant he couldn't really talk about it. He'd fall apart if he did.

Ferb always helped her, but it wasn't until seven months ago that she realized she always helped him, too. This was part of it: she would let him lose himself in the task of helping her. She counted on him and needed him. It was a purpose. And she realized what they were doing now was almost a perfect metaphor, because she wouldn't let Ferb stall and get stuck in his grief.

"Teach me your grandpa's tricks, then," she said, determinedly taking the wheel. "How he taught you. I'm not good enough to feel it, so show me how you learned."

Ferb's eyes were shining as he eventually looked back up. Isabella hadn't expected this to be so… _heavy._ Ferb rarely got emotional; but if his grandpa had taught him how to drive a manual, this must have been difficult for him.

Difficult but, Isabella hoped, healing, too.

"You've got to learn to feel it," he began, "but we can start with trying to judge based upon speed until you get there," he said, and when she pressed on the clutch, he shifted her hand and the stick from one gear to the next as he spoke. "In general, first gear is good for 0-15 because it's a large gear and provides a lot of torque to get the car moving. Second gear, 20-30; third gear, 30-40; fourth gear, 40-50; and fifth is 50+, generally speaking. Use lower gears to build up to the speed and higher gears to maintain it."

"And when I switch to gas…" she shifted back to first and pressed the gas, and this time, _miraculously,_ the gear caught and they were moving. "Tada!"

"Second," Ferb muttered after a moment, pulling on her hand, and she went for the clutch. She held her breath, let him guide her hand, and—"Gas."

 _Oh my god!_ She switched into second without stalling! It was always the lowest gears she stalled on. She didn't know if that was most people learning to drive manual or just her; either way it _sucked._ But she did it!

Until she went to stop at a stop sign in the parking lot… and she stalled again.

"Try again," Ferb whispered, his fingers squeezing hers. "First."

Well, if they were going to do this, she might as well go all out. Isabella restarted the car threw it into first.

Isabella drove with him until midnight on her personal track under the mall lights. With no one else around and the long stretch of empty parking spaces, she even got to practice shifting up into fifth; but for now she was tired. She'd gotten as good as she was going to get before her exam, and she needed to sleep if she were going to keep her nerves down.

"I still don't know what you were saying about feeling it," Isabel said as she rolled to a stop, "but I think if I keep watching the speedometer like this, I'll be just fine."

He nodded, smiling at her in a way that made her think he agreed, and she beamed at him.

"You're a great teacher, Ferb. Thanks."

His smile grew even wider, and for the very first time since she started driving, Ferb took his hand off hers.

"Now all you need is some rest," he decided, unbuckling and stepping out. Isabella followed his lead, a little taken aback by the cool night air as it kissed her skin. When Ferb had shown up at her house out of the blue, she hadn't expected to be out _this_ long. She was already falling asleep as he drove her home.

The next day was all too slow to come. Ferb insisted on driving her to her exam. Her mom was busy with the restaurant and didn't seem inclined to complain. Even for Ferb, he was being unusually adamant about helping her; he wanted to be there from start to finish. She knew him well enough that it had to do with his grandpa. Isabella could tell: this was a bittersweet and cathartic thing for him. He needed this.

He stayed at his car, and she took the final few steps alone. Test time.

She needed to breathe. Check the mirror. Blinker. Match the rpm to the torque. Watch the speed. Let it guide you.

All of these reminders took the form of Ferb's voice in her head, and before she knew it, her test was done.

She may not have gotten Ferb's perfect score, but in the entirety of the manual transmission portion, she managed to not stall the car once. Not every shift was perfectly clean, but it was at least proficient, and with her scores on the rest of the exam...

Ferb was waiting by his car, and he stood up straight as she walked out the doors of the driver's ed. She was careful to keep her face smooth as she strolled across the parking lot, unreadable, and Ferb lifted an anxious eyebrow. When at first she didn't say anything, he reached out to her, and that was when she couldn't take it anymore.

"I passed!" she squealed as she jumped into his arms. He must have expected it, because he didn't stagger, even when he was holding her weight. "An A! And I didn't stall once! I mean, I think there were a few times I hit the gas a bit too quickly since I was so nervous, but it didn't stall, and I did it, Ferb! _Oh my gosh!"_

He chuckled in her ear, and when she returned her feet to the ground, she was bouncing with excitement.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She pulled back, but still held onto his shoulders. "You saved my life, Ferb. Oh my gosh!"

She kissed him on his cheek before diving behind him for the car door. She couldn't wait to tell the others! And her mom would be making homemade green chili tonight, Isabella's favorite. At least now it was to celebrate! Oh, she was so excited!

Ferb had yet to move. From what she could see of him, he almost looked... tense? She rolled down the passenger window.

"Ferb?"

He turned sharply at the sound of his name, and when he met her eyes, he nodded once. He didn't say anything, but quickly jetted around to the other side of the car. As he started to pull out of the lot, she couldn't help but giggle.

"You've stuck by my side this long, Ferb. It'd only be right for you to take me to the DMV too, right?"

She'd been teasing, but she should have known better; Ferb immediately turned onto a street in the _opposite_ direction of their home—the direction of the DMV. He was already taking her there.

"Oh Ferb! I was just kidding! You've already spent this long with me! You shouldn't—"

"Too late," he laughed quietly, and Isabella sat back again in her seat.

"I can always bug my mom about taking me. I'm sure you have more important things to do. "

"Not more important than this," he murmured. At least, she was pretty sure that was what he said, but when he smirked and glanced at her, she decided it didn't really matter. She grinned to herself and pulled her legs up onto the seat. Ferb _rocked._ She already knew that, of course; she'd known it for years. But this definitely proved it even more.

She was number eighty-nine when they arrived at the DMV, and they were only serving number sixty-three. To top it off, there were _no more_ open chairs in the entire building.

"Oh Ferb, I'm sorry," she groaned. He'd already done so much for her; he shouldn't have to put up with stupid transportation agencies, either.

Ferb shrugged and held his arm out to her. She wasn't sure where he intended to go—there were no seats, after all—but she took it anyway, and he strolled over to the far wall. There, he folded himself onto the floor, and she followed his example. At least she'd thought to wear jeans today. The linoleum was cold and not exactly what she would describe as clean...

"And now we wait," she sighed, and Ferb let out a small laugh. He nodded, and they fell into silence.

Silence was definitely something she didn't experience when Phineas was around, but it was a given with just Ferb and her. Silence was weird with Phineas, mostly because it was unusual, but she never minded it with Ferb. That was just _Ferb._ It made silence one of her favorite things.

She loved listening to Phineas, of course; but her life was kind of hectic. She appreciated the silence. It kept her centered.

Or maybe it was Ferb, rather, that kept her centered.

"Thanks," she said for probably the millionth time, and it still wasn't enough.

After a minute, he held his hand up between them. She didn't know what he meant by it, but she reached up to meet it, and he shaped their hands around each other until they made a joined fist: perfect for a thumb war.

"Oh wow," Isabella giggled. "How is this even fair? You're thumb's so much bigger than mine!"

He grinned and shrugged. Ch, fine. Isabella was game.

She sat there playing that silly game with him for a few rounds. They probably confused some of the people in chairs, who turned back to look at them a few times as she squealed and laughed.

Ferb won. Every time.

"Unfair advantage, Fletcher, I swear," she pouted, and he smirked at her. He let their hands fall to her lap and seemed to debate for a moment. Then he nudged her arm with his, and she recognized the invite. She shifted to lean against him, and his motivation was revealed when he rested his head on hers. She supposed she'd kept him up last night. She was tired, too.

It was a bizarre moment when Isabella felt him grow a little heavier. She heard a quiet puff of air. It was so unlike him, but Isabella was sure: Ferb Fletcher was snoozing on her in the middle of the DMV.

It was so unbelievably precious. It was rare for him to let his guard down so much. At least, in public when other people were around.

She didn't want to disturb him, but she couldn't resist; she took her phone out and lined it up for the perfect selfie. The screen reflected her happy smile, and, lo and behold, the dozing, content face of Ferb, his cheek partially concealed in her hair. She took the picture.

She'd have to tease him later, but for now, she was content with sitting here smiling to herself. He was just… adorable.

Phineas missed one hell of a day.

When she saw her number pop up, her hand crashed down on Ferb's leg and he jumped. She hadn't meant to startle him; she was just so excited! She practically dragged him behind her as she rushed to the counter.

She presented her test results before the desk clerk could even say hello. When they went to take her picture, they had to tell her to stop smiling four times, and it didn't help that Ferb kept cracking up. Every time she managed to make a straight face, she saw him smile out of the corner of her eye and she started laughing again.

Finally— _finally_ —they got her picture. She signed a screen and just like that, she got her temporary license. Ferb slow-clapped as they walked away, and Isabella punched him in the arm.

"You kept making me laugh! They were getting so mad at me!"

They made it back to his car, and instead of answering, he held his keys out to her. She froze.

"Come on," he told her, holding the keys a little closer, and Isabella lunged forward. She buried her face in his chest, and he flailed as she hugged him as hard as she could.

"You're the best, Ferb," she decided. "I seriously don't know what I'd do without you. So you're not allowed to leave me. Ever. Never, ever, ever."

He didn't say anything for a minute, just hugging her back. When she didn't pull away, he mumbled, "You're stalling," into the top of her head.

Damn it, he saw right through her.

"Shhh, don't jinx it!"

She was smiling when she pushed him away, and he gestured to the car. It was Ferb's way of telling her to shut up and drive. It was a lot of faith he was putting in her; Ferb loved his car.

"Alright, then," she breathed. "As an officially licensed driver, I declare we should go home and eat some green chili! Text Phin so he'll come over, too. I want to celebrate!"

Ferb nodded, and after climbing into the passenger seat, he pulled his phone out. She was super psyched to show Phineas her temporary license. He wouldn't be old enough to get his for a few more months, and she could spend time with him if she offered to drive him around.

Isabella took the gearshift. She knew her manual driving wasn't flawless, but after Ferb's coaching, she was confident she'd get them home. She put it in reverse and slowly backed out of the spot. She threw it back into first—and the car sputtered off.

She'd stalled the engine.

"Goddamn it!" she cried, slamming her foot on the clutch and turning the car back on. "Not a word, Fletcher, I swear to god! I passed, that's all that matters, and it's not like I'm buying a freaking manual anyway!"

Ferb laughed all the way home; and Isabella had to admit, it was just about the most amazing sound ever.

* * *

 _Review, please!_

 _I hope you are all having as much fun reading this as I had writing it! I've never focused so much on the development of their relationship. I've also never forced myself to break apart the continuity_ _by having each chapter be a snap-shot of each year! It's really enjoyable for me, and I hope that comes across in my writing, all the way to you!_

 _See you in a couple days._

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	6. Seventeen

_I have to tke a break from my silly poems fr a more serous update. Pleas ignore anytypos that might b rampant in this AN; I'll explain tha tat the end of the cahpter._

 _Enjoy!_

 _Dicslaimer: I do not own phineas and Ferb._

* * *

SEVENTEEN

* * *

Building a gazebo was _not_ exactly how Isabella would have planned the perfect day. Classes were intense right now, and weekends were as precious as gold. It usually seemed no one knew that as well as Phineas; and yet here they were, spending their Saturday doing _this._

Phineas stood eyeing the gazebo infrastructure while his hand rubbed at his chin. Buford wanted it to practically survive the apocalypse, but his mom wanted it to fully retract at the push of a button to a the size of a suitcase. Considering the gazebo was supposed to be large enough to stretch the expanse of their pool, Isabella thought it would be quite the mechanical feat. She was 100% positive Phineas could pull it off; but it was still a bit out there.

Isabella was all for helping out, _especially_ Buford's mom, who'd worked her butt off for years raising Buford all on her own and was just about the nicest lady ever; but there was no denying Isabella would much rather be _in_ the pool than building a gazebo to go over it.

It could have been the absolutely perfect weather. It could have been the fact that she'd had so many projects lately. It could even be the simple joy of being around Phineas and Ferb; but Isabella really wanted to have fun today instead of building things. Phineas saw fun and building as the exact same thing, and while Isabella _could_ have fun building, she didn't exactly share Phineas' enthusiasm.

To top it off, Isabella was feeling _immensely_ frustrated—in more ways than one. Probably because for some godforsaken reason, she could not stop hearing dirty things practically every time Phineas opened his mouth, and he didn't even _realize it!_

"This wood is super hard," Phineas said, knocking his fist against the piece he was currently carving, and from across the yard, Isabella met Ferb's eyes. The older brother had been well aware of all the verbal accidents spilling out of Phineas' mouth today, too.

"It's just about the hardest I could get my hands on," he continued, and Isabella smacked her forehead.

"Why does that even matter?" she laughed out of sheer mortification at his complete and total obliviousness.

"Well, I thought when it comes to this, the harder the better," Phineas stated.

He didn't break stride, and his face was completely smooth. Nothing. He saw literally nothing wrong with any of his statements today.

Seriously, it was almost an insult. Every innocent innuendo was like a neon sign that read, _Look here, Isabella! It's a tribute to your continuously unrealized desires. Did you think romance would ever occur to Phineas? LOL, noob, nice try._

"But _why?_ " she asked, although at this point, she was kind of afraid to know.

"That's how Buford wants it," he answered. "He said it should stand up even during a hurricane. Plus this way, it can get really wet!"

Isabella opened her mouth. Then she gave up and let it close again. She had literally nothing she could say to this, so she turned on her heel and crossed to where Ferb was perched on a ladder.

"Pervert," Ferb teased under his breath the moment she was near enough, and Isabella felt her face flush.

Ferb and her had the fiercest, _fiercest_ bromance. There was no other way she could think to describe it. He was her best friend, of course; but sometimes even "best friend" couldn't quite quantify it, and she thought bromance had a good ring to it.

"Oh please! Your mind has been in the gutter this whole time too, Fletcher. You can't tell me it wasn't, I saw you laughing!"

He gave her a look that… well, honestly she had no idea what it meant. That was weird since Ferb was usually easy to read; but she supposed it didn't really matter, because the expression was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by an amused grin.

"Do you think he's messing with us?" she ventured. "No way this is real, right? Like, not even Phineas can be this dense!"

Ferb rolled his eyes and looked at her in a way that said, _It's Phineas._

That was true.

"Hey, Ferb, would you give me the shaft?" Phineas called, gesturing to a metal pole on the ground by their feet.

 _Holy. Shit._

Isabella met Ferb's eyes again, and her mouth popped open in shock. Ferb, meanwhile, looked like he was about to die from how hard he was trying not to laugh.

My god, did Phineas not hear himself? How could he _not_ hear himself? She seriously couldn't believe he was so oblivious he wouldn't—

Okay. Okay, it was _Phineas._ Ferb had been right about that. Maybe he could be that oblivious, but _still!_ He was seventeen freaking years old! His parents must have had _the talk_ with him… and if not his parents, then Ferb. How could he possibly be this blind to every single sentence coming out of his mouth right now?

"Isabella, did you hear me?" Phineas asked, and Isabella snapped back to attention.

"What?"

"I asked if you could go to the other side. Ferb'll give you a shaft, too, and if we put them in at the same time, it should stay up."

Isabella was so startled by his words that the piece of wood she'd been holding slid right out of her hands—and she yelped as a sharp pain bit her finger.

She'd given herself a splinter.

"Oh, ow!" she whined. "Ow, ow. Damn it."

"Whoa, are you okay?" Phineas asked, climbing down from his own ladder.

"Splinter," she explained, hissing at her first attempt to get it out. " _Ow."_

Phineas and Ferb closed in. Ferb took her hand and held it up in the middle of the three of them while Phineas prodded at the finger in question, and Isabella let out a totally embarrassing gasp of pain.

"Sorry!" Phineas blurted out. "Guess I shouldn't just poke it, huh?"

Ferb's eyes flashed up to hers, and she knew _exactly_ what he was thinking. Freaking hypocrite, calling _her_ a perv! He was just as bad as she was!

"No," she agreed. "No poking. Think we can squeeze it out?"

She wanted to smack Ferb for that cheeky grin.

"Oo, I don't know. It's jammed in there pretty deep and I don't think I can pull it out," Phineas said with a thoughtful purse of his lips. And this time, Ferb started cracking up so hard he had to walk away.

"Ferb!" Isabella exclaimed. He was _so_ not making this easier for her, the jerk! But now she was laughing, too, and Phineas was left looking really, really confused.

"What's so funny?" he asked, and Isabella quickly shook her head. She would _not_ be explaining this to Phineas. She was pretty sure she would literally die from the embarrassment.

"Nothing! I swear, I just—can we get this out?" She held her hand up again, and as always when there was a task in front of them, Phineas' attention tunneled to a single point.

"I bet I can make something to get it out," he decided, and Isabella felt the color drain from her face.

"Make something?" She really didn't think a splinter merited some new, grand contraption—but then Phineas was already pacing, thinking, and she could tell he was lost to Invention Land.

Invention Land was _nothing_ like Phineas Land. At least Phineas got to satisfy the musings of his mind in real life. Isabella, on the other hand? Well, like she said, she'd been feeling frustrated in more ways than one.

"I can definitely make something to suck it right out of there! I just need the right tools."

"Phineas—"

"It's fine, Isabella," he declared as he raced across the yard. "You just hang tight!"

And he was gone. Yup. Just like that. Ugh, this problem was about her, and she'd already lost him to a project!

Ferb circled back to her looking _way_ too pleased.

"Shut up," she told him, and he started laughing again.

"I didn't say anything," he pointed out, but she didn't care.

"You were thinking it. I felt your smugness and your pity, all rolled into one."

A contemplative frown fell on his face, definitely more serious than she'd been prepared for.

"I've never pitied you, Isabella. Not once."

She stared at him. _She_ certainly pitied herself. Her troop did, too. After all these years, she completely expected Ferb to, too, _especially_ considering all the low moments he'd pulled her out of. But she could tell in his voice… he was telling the truth.

"This will just take about ten or fifteen minutes!" Phineas called as he jetted from the garage to where he'd left his wrench on the ground, then back again, and Isabella's attention was pulled back to the original point she'd been making.

"I swear to god, Ferb, someday that kid will realize his inventions aren't the answer to every single problem."

"Kid?" Ferb snickered. "You're only a few months older than he is."

She glared at him, even as Ferb gently pulled her down onto the grass.

"Ferb, he just asked you to give him the shaft without even batting an eye!" she pointed out as she stretched out beside him. "I think I'm allowed to call him a kid."

Ferb's gaze turned into something analytical, and she knew he saw right through her.

"And that's a problem," he said. It wasn't a question, but a fact.

"Yes!" Isabella exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "We're seniors, Ferb! Where's the emotional awareness?"

Ferb gave her that exact same look that seemed to say, _It's Phineas,_ and Isabella sighed. She got that look a lot from him, and now she felt herself deflate.

"I mean, you know how much I've always cared about him, it's just—well, is it really so bad to want more?"

Her question fell on them both and brought silence with it. She and Ferb stared at each other, and Isabella was forced to face what she'd said. Did she want more? No. No, she was… _fine_. Phineas was totally enough for her. He was. Right?

Ferb was looking at her with the most bewildered expression.

"Isabella... you do still like Phineas."

This time, Isabella had no idea if it was a question or a statement. Why was it so damn hard to answer?

"I—sure? It's Phineas! I... just..."

"Want a little attention," he mused, and at his smirk, Isabella blushed harder than she'd ever blushed before.

"Oh god, don't say it like that!" she cried, smacking him in the arm. "That makes it sound so... _so..."_

She smacked him again, and this time she irritated her pathetic wound.

"Ow, ow, _ow,"_ she hissed, quarantining the finger in question so nothing could bump it again, and Ferb started cracking up.

"Oh hush," she muttered, glaring at him again for good measure.

Ferb raised his hands in a placating gesture, but his smug smile said it all. He was wrong, though! She was _not_ desperate for a little attention. At least not in _that_ way.

At least not that she'd admit...

Would it be nice to be romantically acknowledged? Yes. Would she appreciate if a bit of physical interaction came along with that? Of course she would. She would definitely appreciate it! To be kissed, to be held, to be wooed until her insides were smoldering? Man, sign her up!

But there were pitfalls to being such a romantic at heart. Disappointment, to name one. It would be hard for anyone to sweep Isabella off her feet in quite the way she'd always imagined—let alone if she wanted Phineas to be that knight in shining armor. He'd probably invent some machine to literally sweep her off her feet. A romantic Phineas was not.

Honestly, at this point, Isabella questioned if Phineas was a sexual being whatsoever. How many nights had she slept at his house in tank tops and shorts without him even _noticing?_ He never showed any interest in a girl—or, hell, even a guy! And all those statements of his today...

Isabella honestly believed Phineas had no clue how sexually just about every sentence out of his mouth had been taken. Of course he understood sex and attraction on a theoretical level—she hoped—but apparently that had zero weight in practice.

"I'm going to be a virgin forever," Isabella said, half in joke and half in gloom, "because I'm pretty damn positive Phineas is going to be a virgin forever."

Ferb gave her an exasperated look. He probably didn't approve of the heaps and heaps of self-doubt he likely heard in her statement.

"I'm not even kidding!" she defended. "I would not even be surprised if he, like, found a way to reproduce through total human osmosis or something. Doesn't that just sound like something Phineas would do?"

Ferb looked down, unusually twitchy as his fingers tugged at strands of grass. He was quiet for a long time. Isabella wasn't sure if he was actually seriously considering what she'd said or if it was something else. It was weird that she couldn't tell.

"Yet you persist to like him," he said, and Isabella pursed her lips.

Of course she needed to like him.

Well, that was a weird way to think about it. She didn't _need_ to like him. She did. Even if he was completely hopeless. She loved him! She must, right? She just wished...

Oh man. This was a dangerous road she really shouldn't go down. If she let herself actually get into all the things she'd need to change about Phineas to actually make him into the knight in her dreams, then he just... he wouldn't be _Phineas_ anymore.

But his naive innocence was part of his charm, right? And even if he couldn't, like, process normal romantic emotions, that was still fine. She should compromise on that if she loved him. He might eventually get there.

He probably wouldn't.

Ugh. Okay. This was the reason Isabella couldn't go down this road in the first place. She hated to admit she wanted more than what she was getting; but of course she did! What girl wouldn't?

Maybe Ferb was right. Maybe she did want a little attention—of a different variety than helping build machines and cracking jokes on a school bus—and she wasn't sure she'd ever get that from Phineas.

"You didn't respond," Ferb said, his eyes blowing wide, and Isabella stared at him. Her mind and heart just weren't working right today, but she reminded herself that she needed to focus.

"What?"

"You usually... but you didn't..." He quickly shook his head and looked away, and Isabella had no idea what he was talking about. She had to trail back through the conversation to recall what he'd last said to her. That she still persisted to like Phineas? And he was bothered because, what? She didn't immediately answer in confirmation?

Whoa.

Wait a minute.

She realized he was absolutely right. She usually sighed dreamily or blurted out "yes!" with incredible enthusiasm. Today, she just... sat here. No dreamy sighs. No shouts of adoration. Not this time. She just hadn't been thinking about it.

"Well, you know I do," she muttered because she needed to say _something_ , and Ferb's gaze flicked up at her for the shortest second before it fell to the ground again. She almost wondered if he didn't believe her; but that would be ridiculous! She liked Phineas still. She didn't know why this was even a question! There would never be any other answer besides yes, right? Because that was what love was, and she _loved_ Phineas.

She did.

She always had, and it wasn't like that would just... change. It didn't change. She didn't think it did. Wasn't love supposed to be forever?

Phineas bounded back over to them. He flipped up the welding mask he was wearing, and Isabella eyed the blowtorch in his hand. Oh dear lord, what was he doing this time?

"I've just about finished the tubing!" he declared with a grin. "I'm making a cylinder that'll contain a vacuum strong enough to—"

Ferb cleared his throat and shot him a pointed look, and Phineas nodded.

"You're right! I should spend less time explaining and more time creating! That splinter's got to hurt, so we should get it out of there!"

He flipped his welding mask back down and took off toward the garage again.

Isabella let out a long, loud groan as she flopped over onto Ferb's shoulder.

"I know he's, like, a total super genius, but I'm worried whatever contraption he's whipping up will hurt even more than the splinter! Don't you have tweezers or something? I'd almost prefer to gouge it out."

Ferb was silent, and Isabella sighed. After a moment, he held his hand out to her, and it took her a moment to realize what he wanted. Then she offered him the hand with the splinter and he cradled it in his, studying it again. She could see where it was, but it was deep. Her skin was red and irritated, and it still stung like crazy.

"It's not a huge deal," she said under her breath. "Definitely not a problem so huge it merits everything Phineas is doing. It'll come out. Maybe I need to soak my finger in water, or something."

Ferb sat up straighter, so Isabella did, too, and she could tell from his face that he had an idea. He pushed to his feet, gestured for her to hold on for a moment, and took off into the house. Isabella had no clue what he was doing, but he wasn't even gone a minute. He came back out holding a small container in his hand, and it was only when he was sitting again that she saw it was shaped like a bear.

 _Honey?_

He took her hand again, and she could only stare in confusion as he flattened her fingers out. Popping the lid, he held it over the afflicted finger.

"Will that help?" she laughed. "Why the heck are you—"

But he was already pouring the honey over her finger, so she supposed it must help or he wouldn't be doing it. The amber liquid pooled on her skin and dripped over the side, onto Ferb's finger, too.

"Ferb, we're going to get all sticky," she laughed, and he raised his eyebrow at her. She realized she just pulled a Phineas. Because they apparently needed more innuendos today. "Oh, not like that!"

He smirked, before lifting his hand to his mouth. He licked the honey from his finger, almost _slowly_ , and suddenly Isabella found it very, _very_ hard to swallow. When he was done, she could only stare at him. Until she blurted out something mortifying.

"You did that on purpose."

Ferb glanced up at her, looking completely innocent. His head lilted to the side as if to say, _What do you mean?_

"You know exactly what I mean," she accused, her voice lowering as she felt warmth rising to her face, and the most shit-eating grin she'd ever seen spread across his face.

"Isabella," he hummed, "you are incorrigible today."

His words made sheer heat flash through her entire body, and she blinked at him in shock. She didn't even know what to say to him. She didn't know how to think at all. There was just his voice and how it affected her as those smooth words filled the space between them.

"Isabella?" he said at her stunned expression, though he was still grinning, and Isabella's eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Are you trying to be _seductive?_ "

Ferb burst into laughter, his expression incredulous as he buried his forehead in his hand. He was laughing so hard—and Isabella wondered if she'd ever heard him laugh quite like this before. It was… immeasurably carefree. It was relaxed and open in a way Ferb often wasn't.

Oh goddamn it, he _was_ trying to be seductive, wasn't he? Laughing like this? Ugh. Not cool after the stunt he'd just pulled!

He gestured to her wound. "I was only trying to help. The honey will draw the splinter to the surface, as well as prevent infection."

Isabella looked down at her hand again. Ferb still held it up between them, but now the beads of honey that rolled off her finger fell into the grass, rather than on him.

Isabella forced herself to swallow a couple times.

"So we just… what? Wait?"

Ferb's head lilted to the side. "We could."

She could tell he was implying they do something else, and she couldn't resist the bait.

"Or?"

Ferb's eyes gleamed like he was pleased she'd asked, and Isabella became aware of her heart beating very, very fast in anticipation. She didn't know what he was going to do, and she was oddly thrilled to find out.

Ferb, after all, always seemed to have a trick up his sleeves.

Then he flipped her hand over, holding her wrist. He lifted it toward him, and she stopped breathing when his mouth closed around the tip of her finger. His eyes didn't waver from hers, and when he gently _sucked—_

 _Oh my god._

Isabella bit down on her lip so hard to hold back the noise building in her throat. Her stomach was a mess of flutters, of a heavy pull in her gut, and it only got worse as his tongue cleaned her finger of the honey, too.

He pulled back, and her hand fell from his mouth to his lap again. He twined his fingers with hers as he said, "And it's gone."

Was it? What was gone? Isabella couldn't _think._

"I should have thought of that sooner," he mused with a quiet chuckle, and suddenly Isabella wasn't so sure he was even talking about getting the splinter out. But of course he was. It wasn't like there was anything else he could have been talking about. Right?

God, she really, _really_ couldn't think!

Looking pleased, he replaced the lid for the honey and got up—presumably to put it away, but Isabella's processing powers were currently fried at the moment.

Until she saw Phineas standing only a few feet away, staring at her. How she hadn't noticed he'd been there all along, she'd never know. _Shit._ How had she not noticed him? She'd practically forgotten he'd existed the past few minutes.

To make it even worse, he was gaping at her. The only consolation—if you could call it that—was that she was certain she was already so flushed that she couldn't get worse.

Until Phineas opened his mouth and it did.

"Well. That. That was... suggestive."

Isabella was absolutely positive she hadn't heard him right, and her voice was shrill as she said, " _What?"_

"I mean, I know he was just getting the splinter out, but... _wow_. That was _so_ not rated G."

Isabella's jaw dropped. Because of everything today... everything _he_ had said... _this_ was what he took in a sexual way? _Seriously?_

"Phin—"

"Like, I'm almost embarrassed to have seen that. Should I—I mean, well, if you wanted more alone time, you could've just told me instead of having me build something. I'd totally get it."

Instead of _having_ him build something? As if _she_ had been the one to suggest that? And the finger thing. That look. That intense sensation that slammed right into her and pooled in her abdomen. None of that was... anything. It wasn't anything at all! It was just...

Holy shit, she had _no_ freaking idea what that was.

But it wasn't suggestive!

Alright, maybe it was, but it was _Ferb!_ He didn't mean it that way. She was positive he saw her as the little sister he had to keep rescuing whenever she awkwardly tripped over the inevitable obstacles of adolecense. He hadn't meant to turn her on.

Not that she was! Turned on, that is. Nope. She was _fine._

She forced herself to breathe.

It was probably just all the accidental suggestive comments Phineas made anyway.

Isabella was still reeling by the time Phineas declared they should finish the gazebo. Ferb hadn't returned yet, and it took her a couple seconds after Phineas bounded off for her to tell her legs to start working again. She felt almost disconnected from her body, and there was no reason for it. She was Isabella, and she was always in control. She needed to be.

So she pushed herself to her feet. She strolled over to the construction zone and picked up the original piece of wood she'd dropped. She'd pull a Phineas; she would pour all of her attention into this project and try to forget anything else existed.

She was doing just that when Ferb passed by in the corner of her eye. She found her gaze following him, trailing all the way as he stopped by his brother and grabbed the metal pole the inventor had originally asked for. As Phineas inserted it, Ferb looked back at her.

And he smirked _._

 _Oh, goddamn it._

Isabella marched over to the other side of the contraption and did absolutely everything in her power to not look at Ferb. Or Phineas. She just… yeah. She was good. It felt hot out here. But she was good.

When they were finished—Phineas had indeed designed the gazebo to shrink down to the size of a suitcase, the genius—Isabella went with both brothers to deliver it to Buford's house. It stretched over their pool perfectly, though Isabella wasn't surprised. Phineas was so brilliant, after all.

Brilliant, she knew, but also blind in perhaps the most important way. At least, in the way she wanted.

"Thanks for your help, Isabella," Phineas said when they finally made it back home. "We'll see you at school on Monday! Or tomorrow, if you're up for it."

"Tomorrow works for me," Isabella promised as they all climbed out of Ferb's car, and she strolled with Phineas to their back gate. She had to help her mom make dinner tonight for her aunt that was in town, otherwise she'd stay longer; but the tamales they were going to make would be _so_ worth it.

"Well, tomorrow it is, then!" Phineas said cheerfully. "I'll come up with another project. I hadn't really planned anything in particular, but I know I'll think of something."

"I'm sure you will," Isabella laughed. Knowing Phineas, she had no doubt.

Phineas gave her a quick hug before taking off for their backyard. Ferb was slower to move. He stood by his car still, his hands perched casually in his pockets, and Isabella couldn't help but feel a little nervous as she turned toward him.

It was a ridiculous feeling; he was her best friend, after all. She shouldn't feel this… _raw_ around him. Unmoored. She was convinced it was just because she was still flustered. Platonic as it was, she hadn't been able to help her physical reaction to his effort to get the splinter out earlier. It was as uncontrollable as it was unorthodox.

"Ferb?" she questioned, because it wasn't really like him to hang back. Not unless something was wrong with her, but she was just fine.

At the sound of his name, he finally came forward, pulling his hands from his pockets. He only came to a stop when he was in front of her— _right_ in front of her, she might die, it was so hot out here today.

Then he took her hand and lifted it between them. His lips brushed across her knuckles, and it got about ten degrees hotter.

"Until tomorrow then, Isabella," he said, his eyes unwavering from hers, and her breath faltered. She needed to say something, didn't she? But instead she could only nod, she was so overwhelmed right now.

He let her hand go and strolled into the backyard after his brother, and as Isabella went home, all she could think was that she had been incorrect earlier; there was no way in hell she was going to be a virgin forever.

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed the chapter and i hope you review! she defntely is starting to feel stuff fr him!_

 _On to the less fun stuff though._

 _A lot of you ha been keeping up with my health-thank you! My ribcage is stable, my spinal decay under contrl and even healing some! All good news on m spine! But Thursday ther ewas a sharp stabbing pain in my left eye and I can't really see out of it. My righ teye had been working so hard to compensate that its sort of givn up right nw too..._

 _In other worsds, this whole screen is kind of a blurry blob and so is my keyboard and everything else .. so if there are a lot of typos, it's because I went from 20/20 to blur with stabbiness in a day and have only gotten wrse since then. I've seen three optometrists and one ophthalmologist since Thrsday night (good thing I work for optometric referral correspondence, huh?_ They all greed I need an MRI ASAP. I had one scheduled later this week but thye thought that was too far out and I was jus notified it's tomorrow morning at 7 AM_

 _Bottom line, I don't know what they'll find and I don't know how long until my vision returns. This story is already written, but even the amount of time it took for me to look at the blob of my screen is making my brain hurt... so I might not be posting the next chapter in the nxt couple days after all._

 _(I know when I can see again, I'll look back at this AN an cringe; I literally cannot see what I type and probably have horrendous typos)._

 _You've all always been so kind and supportive with my wacky immune system stuff through all my stories! I know my health is more important than a silly chapter or two; but since you've taken the time to read my work up t this point, it only felt right to notify you as to why Im goin against my initially promised update schedule._

 _Fingers crossed I'll be back to posting inno time!_

 _And please... your warm thoughts as I face this MRI tomorrow are always appreciated. Here's to hoping they don't find anything unpleasant, eh? This student has just abot had it with medical bills! No more!_

 _Hopefully I'll see you all soon!_

 _(Haha... SEE what I did there? TWICE! You know... Becase it's my eyes...)_

 _Okay, bad joke at my own expnse... but then again, Ive alwys been a sucker for puns._

 _More than anything, I'd like to hear what you think about the chapter. I know this eyestuff sucks and so does the MRI stuff but I don't want itto overshadow this chpter. Did you lik it? Its a pretty significant shift for izzy. What did you think? Sly Ferb's being sly!_

 _Wish me luck!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	7. Eighteen

_Hello everybody!_

 _I had to type this AN in a word document in 28 point font just to see it; but hey, it works, right? Copying and pasting from there is easy, and at least then I could see what I wrote!_

 _Turns out I currently have optic retrobulbar neuritis. Sounds scary, right? Not gonna lie, it is pretty scary! They aren't certain how long it will take for my vision to fully return. Hopefully it will! It's not like I can just wear glasses to correct it; it's an issue with my optic nerve, not a refractive issue. So yeah, this has been fun._

 _The good news is my MRI came back with no brain tumors and no brain plaque! They had been worried about that, and I'm in the clear! They actually think the neuritis was caused by an unexpected flare-up of my spinal decay, which triggered my optic nerve to go all wonky._

 _There's not much they can do for the pain, so I'm on fever medicine just trying to manage that. Basically, I have to just suck it up and wait for my optic nerve to stop being mean and decide it wants to work again._

 _On a less depressing note, I'm so happy you guys enjoyed last chapter! I had a friend read the reviews to me, and it meant to much! Thank you!_

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

EIGHTEEN

* * *

Isabella knew it would be an interesting night when Adyson's mom bought all the liquor.

Adyson was a fun one. Some may also choose to define her as a crazy one. But her mom thought it was best to have parent-approved-and-protected drinking safely at home rather than through some incredibly reckless or illegal means, so here they were, _loaded._

The family-and-family-friends, respectable part of Adyson's high school graduation party was over; the adults had long left, and now it was just the teens in her generously spacious basement. According to Adyson, this was when the _real_ party began.

And Isabella had to admit. Adyson was absolutely right.

For starters: Phineas didn't drink much. And by that, Isabella meant she was pretty sure Phineas had never drunk before. _Ever._

For finishers: Phineas—the lightweight—had had two and a half drinks and Adyson—the junior mixologist—had been the one to make them.

Enough said.

"And then I was all, 'Take _that,_ laws of physics!'" Phineas declared as he threw his arms in the air. "Gravity? We don't need that here. Time? What is time compared to speed, and what is speed compared to entropy? I freaking _love_ you guys."

He practically tackled Baljeet in a hug from behind, and the scrawny boy yelped as Phineas made him drop his calculator. Served him right, Isabella thought, for bringing a calculator to a _party_. Buford was laughing, probably thinking along the same lines as Isabella—until Phineas approached Buford with arms extended.

The bully couldn't process things quick enough to escape, and it was too late. Phineas enveloped him with a hug, and considering how hard Phineas was laughing, Isabella didn't think he'd be letting go.

"I love you guys!" he slurred. "Every last one of you! You're— _great._ You're great, Baljeet, and you're great, Katie, and you're great, Gretchen, and _oh my god,_ Buford, you are so gosh darn _huggable!"_

Buford groaned as he tried to shove Phineas off, but the redhead apparently gained super strength when drunk, and he wasn't going anywhere.

Isabella didn't know if she'd ever been so amused. Seriously, this was gold. She would have bet money that if they ever managed to get Phineas drunk, he would just start building really crazy and random stuff, like marshmallow-toasting belts or something. She never expected him to be this _goofy._

Ferb strolled up beside her, and she smiled at him.

"Oh my god, Ferb, this is _amazing._ I don't think I've ever seen something this funny in my life."

Ferb nodded, but motioned to the soda in her hands with a confused expression. Isabella let out a laugh. No, she hadn't intended to drink tonight.

"I didn't want to say anything stupid in front of Phineas," she admitted—which was rather ironic since Phineas started giggling hysterically into Buford's shoulder. "Granted, that decision was made before we realized he was such a lightweight."

Ferb snorted, shaking his head at his brother's antics.

Something occurred to Isabella, and she stood a little straighter.

"What about you? Drink something!"

In answer, he gestured to Phineas, but Isabella waved him off.

"You're always the responsible one, Ferb. Like, _always_. Let me be the one to take care of things for a change!"

He shook his head in dismissal, but Isabella would be hearing none of that. She was already off on a mission. Their options were kind of limited to _low alcohol content_ and _cheap,_ but she selected a wine cooler she knew for certain anyone would like, popped the top, and made her way back over to him. She wasted no time before depositing it in his hands.

"Bottom's up," she hummed, and he smirked at her.

"You," he breathed, "are incorrigible."

"So I've been told," she responded flippantly. "Repeatedly. By you."

His smirk stretched into a grin, and Isabella returned the expression. Really, incorrigible had become one of her favorite words by now. It reminded her keenly of so many witty retorts and _a lot_ of laughter.

Regardless, he kept his playful gaze centered on her as he tilted his drink to his lips. He didn't look away, not even once, as he easily drained the whole thing.

Isabella's jaw _dropped._

" _Ferb!"_ she laughed, smacking his arm, but he caught her hand as soon as she did and twined his fingers through hers.

"Incorrigible!" she decreed, poking him in the chest, but that only seemed to encourage him more. He stepped closer, and all she could do was smile as she leaned into him—but before he could say anything, Phineas' howl of laughter cut them off, and they turned their attention to where Buford and Baljeet were… Could they call it babysitting?

"I think you'd look funny with a beard," Phineas said, speaking to Buford, who, for whatever reason, drunken Phineas was still hanging on.

Buford smacked his forehead. "Oh man, Dinner Bell, you're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

"Awesome," Phineas cheered.

"Actually it is not awesome, Phineas," Baljeet told him, holding on to the redhead's shoulders, but Phineas didn't stop laughing.

"I love you guys."

"Oh my gosh, Phineas," Isabella cracked up, and Phineas turned a silly smile on them. He finally let go of Buford—only to throw his arms around Ferb and her.

"And I really, really— _really_ love you two. You're holding hands? Can I hold hands, too?" But instead of going for their hands, Phineas literally burrowed between Ferb and her.

Isabella hadn't really thought about how she'd been holding Ferb's hand. They did that a lot… It was actually kind of normal. Phineas burrowing between them, however? With his arms still around them, so he'd practically sandwiched himself between Ferb and her? That was less normal.

But, she supposed, hearing Ferb start laughing at how ridiculous his brother was made it worth it.

"You're all being B-O-R-ing!" Adyson declared, sauntering back into view with Milly and Holly right behind her. "I think we should play a game."

"Oh, we should totally play a game!" Phineas agreed, bouncing with excitement. "Cards? A board game? Should we make one up? I can make one and—"

"Phineas, Phineas, Phineas," Adyson chided, pulling him out of Isabella's and Ferb's reach and directing him toward the center of the room, where the rest of her girls and the other people from their class were hanging out.

Along the way she called, "We need popsicle sticks!"

A sinking suspicion tripped down to Isabella's stomach. She knew exactly what game Adyson would want to play.

"Really, Ady?" Isabella groaned. "You totally take this game to dirty places."

Adyson promptly stuck her tongue out at her; and since this was her party, everyone was migrating with her toward the center of the room. Maybe they weren't protesting because they hadn't yet realized what game she had her mind set on.

Isabella felt her cheeks flare with embarrassment, knowing her opinion was the unpopular one, but she couldn't imagine this possibly ending well for her…

Ferb nudged her with his elbow, his lips pursed in concern, but she remembered tonight was about letting _him_ have fun for a change. He seemed to always be looking out for her, and tonight… tonight, she wanted him to enjoy himself instead of worry.

"It's fine," she said with a shrug, and when she moved with the others, Ferb followed.

What was surprising was when he slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side. Ferb wasn't usually very… _touchy-feely._ At least not in crowd situations. Ferb was, in fact, the person usually standing on the edge of the group with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Instead, he strolled right up to Adyson, pretty much in the middle of the action, and he had yet to let her go.

"We have officially graduated high school!" Adyson called out, and because all of her friends were at least a little inebriated—except Isabella and, likely, Baljeet—they all exploded into a round of cries and cheers. "So it's time to turn things up a notch!"

They were playing King's Game, and the rules were simple.

First, you had to know how many players there were. There were Phineas, Ferb, and her, of course. There was her troop: Adyson, Katie, Gretchen, Ginger, Holly, and Milly. Plus Buford and Baljeet and Django. Irving was skulking around somewhere. Wendy Stinglehopper, Thaddeus and Thor—for some reason, Adyson thought they were cute, and Isabella had been giving them a wide berth—and a couple other people she didn't really know. Eighteen total. Sixteen after two of the unknowns decided to peace out. It was a mercy to them, if Adyson was running this game.

Sixteen popsicle sticks were gathered. At the end of each was a single number: one through fifteen. The sixteenth had a K on it: they were to be the King. The sticks were put in a cup number down, and they all drew. From there, the King would pick numbers to do random stuff: maybe act out a movie or do a dance or something silly.

Isabella had to admit, King's Game was way kinder than truth-or-dare or spin-the-bottle. This wasn't implicitly physical, and it eliminated the aspect of picking on one person for a specific reason (her girls had dared her to do some pretty intense things before). The numbers were all random, and the King had no idea who was what number before they assigned tasks. If the King was feeling devious and you got something that sucked, that was just the luck of the draw.

Unfortunately, Isabella wasn't feeling too confident in her luck.

They all settled down randomly throughout the room. There was no set space to King's Game: only victims and the amused.

Isabella sat on the floor next to Ferb—and once they were both sitting, Phineas literally _dove_ over their legs. Isabella yelped in shock at the sudden body lying on her. Then she promptly fell to pieces in keels of laughter. Whenever she imagined getting to stare at Phineas' butt, it wasn't because he was lying on his stomach over her and Ferb's legs! Much like Buford, Ferb smacked his forehead in exasperation, and Isabella giggled even harder.

Drinks were passed around. Ginger handed Isabella a wine cooler, but she only took a swallow before she passed it to Ferb.

"Round two," she teased, but he smirked and took it without protest.

They chilled there, Isabella leaning against Ferb's side, Ferb sipping at his drink, and Phineas stretched out over them like a cat, until all the popsicle sticks were made. Then Adyson patrolled the room, letting everyone draw. They weren't even halfway done, and already—

"King!" Phineas declared, shooting to his feet so fast Isabella was amazed he didn't topple over. As it was, Ferb and she were already reaching up as if to steady him; but he was doing alright.

Phineas was practically dancing as he brandished his "K" emblazoned stick, like he thought they wouldn't believe him. He thrust it up into the air.

"The King declares everyone give him a _huge_ group hug!"

Everyone stared at him. Adyson wasn't even _finished_ passing out the numbers yet, and her jaw dropped in incredulity.

"Phineas, that's not how the game is supposed to be played," she told him, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"Right! Fine. The King declares numbers one through fifteen give him a huge and cuddly and awesome group hug! Starting now." He held his arms straight out to his sides, closing his eyes and beaming expectantly. "Bring it on."

"Phineas," Adyson snickered, "that's not—"

"Hey, the King has spoken," Isabella cut in, tapping Ferb's chest so he'd lift his arm from her shoulders, and she was the first one in the group hug. From there, the others shrugged, and Phineas' command was fulfilled. They were a laughing, off-balance, mess of a group hug; but they were a group hug nonetheless.

Well. The game was off to an odd start.

Buford was King next, and things got more interesting: three, twelve, and fourteen had to share their most embarrassing high school secret, and the one voted least embarrassing had to attempt to do a Russian folkdance in front of all the others.

Yup. This was much more like the King's Game Isabella knew. And Baljeet's folk dance—earning a 94% on a Spanish test when you already spoke English and Hindi was _so_ not embarrassing—was so funny Isabella was getting a cramp in her side.

Numbers four through eleven had to sing the epic dwarf mountain song from the second Stumbleberry Finkbat movie—courtesy of Irving. Isabella was a part of that one, but she couldn't keep a straight face when Buford was rocking such a deep, dwarf-like baritone.

Milly said five needed to propose to seven as if five were the Queen of England and seven was Michael Jackson. Wendy Stinglehopper had a _terrible_ English accent, but _Ferb?_ Ferb was a _great_ Michael Jackson. He flawlessly moonwalked all the way around Wendy while she was down on one knee, and Isabella found herself watching the movement as popped his hip to the side. Even from across the room, she could swear he smirked at her, before he danced back around Wendy again.

When Isabella drew King, she aimed for entertainment. She assigned four groups of two. They were partners and they had to put on an "act" for a school talent show. She would be the fake judge. Players like Adyson, Thaddeus, and Buford liked to actually have winners and losers—usually assigning some kind of punishment game to the poorest performer—but Isabella was in it for the show. Watching her friends be idiots was good enough.

Django, a nerdy movie buff, assigned people different roles from the sixth movie of the _Space Adventure_ saga. Eight of them had actual characters, and all the rest acted as trees as the others comedically reenacted a battle scene on the Forest Moon of Schmendor.

Ferb had easily finished his second drink by now and was almost through his third; and Isabella _loved_ it. She'd rarely seen him this relaxed. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair slightly tousled. His hand rested gently on the top of her leg, and when he caught her looking at him, she could swear she'd never seen him so _happy._

Isabella could barely stand it, it was so adorable.

They drew their next round, and a maniacal laugh filled the room.

 _Oh no._

"Finally! It's about time we remember we're all college-bound here!" Adyson stated, leveling her K-stick at them like a sword. "We're growing up, people! So six, nine, and lucky number thirteen all have to kiss someone!"

The room erupted with shouts of approval. Everyone thought this was hilarious—at least, everyone who wasn't a victim. Numbers six, nine, and thirteen, however?

Isabella let out a shaky breath and stared down at the stick in her hand.

 _6_ _._

Shit.

Even if it didn't have the line underneath it, proving it was six, Isabella still would have been screwed; nine had been called, too.

She had to kiss someone.

She had to _kiss_ someone!

"Who's six?" Adyson demanded—and Phineas was oh so helpful.

"Isabella is!" he chirped, having read the number over her shoulder.

Sheer panic swallowed her whole.

"I—have to use the bathroom!" she blurted out. This was met with a roar of indignant groans. They probably knew her excuse was just that, but she was already booking it up the stairs. They would just have to wait because—because…

Because she was a wreck, that was why!

 _Kissing_ someone? She was a romantic, of course she was, but she was a completely inexperienced romantic, and she couldn't handle this right now!

She shouldn't have been surprised that Ferb had followed her. She had been planning to run to the bathroom, hide in there, and maybe never come out, but he caught her in the hall and pulled her around so she was facing him.

 _Isabella?_ his concerned gaze inquired, and she blurted her question out.

"I should choose Phineas, right?"

Ferb froze entirely. His lips pursed with caution, and his voice was quiet as he said, "Why wouldn't you?"

She tried to answer him, but she wasn't sure how, so she lunged forward and buried her face against his chest. His hand ran a soothing line down her hair, and the familiarity of his comfort drew her insecurities right from her mouth and stamped them into the air between them.

"Ferb—I've never kissed anyone, okay?" Ugh. There. She said it. "High school graduate, going to college, eighteen years old, and I've never even had my first kiss. I know! I know how that sounds, I just—I don't—I never—"

Ferb gently pushed her back and motioned for her to breathe. She tried to follow his advice, but the words continued to tumble from her mouth anyway.

"And now I have to kiss someone and I know I always wanted to kiss Phineas, but—what if I do? What if I'm _awful?_ And awkward? And don't know what the hell I'm doing? What if my first kiss is so bad Phineas never speaks to me again? What if he tells everyone else how bad I was? What if—"

"Isabella—"

"I'm going to die, Ferb! I don't even know _how_ to kiss a boy, and now everyone's going to watch me and they'll be able to tell and—I'm _eighteen!_ I shouldn't be so cripplingly insecure about this!But—I am. It's stupid and embarrassing and juvenile, but I am."

Ferb's surprise melted into something soft and understanding, but—you guessed it—Isabella wasn't done panicking.

"But now I've built it up so much in my head, and I'm terrified, and now I don't know if I'll _ever_ have my first kiss because I'm so— _blah!_ Crazy!So I'm _never_ going to kiss _anyone, ever,_ and I'm going to die alone and—"

Ferb took her face and pressed his lips to hers.

Isabella's words caught in her throat as new ones filled her mind: _Ferb is kissing me._

 _Ferb is kissing me._

Ferb _is kissing_ me.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Relax, Isabella."

Then he was kissing her again. She had never expected his mouth to be so warm. And so pleasant. This was startling. It was weird but she knew, beyond a doubt, that it could be wonderful. If she actually knew _how_ to kiss, it could be wonderful.

She applied a little pressure as she tried to kiss him back, and he smiled against her lips.

"Softer. You're trying to think about it, love, but just move instead. And don't forget to breathe."

Their noses brushed as she nodded in acknowledgement, and she pressed her mouth back against his. She could tell he was surprised by her actions, but he wasted no time before his fingers were curling in her hair and he tilted her face up even more.

This time, she actually did kiss him back, mostly moving with a push of her lips the moment his gave, and she thought kissing was kind of like a call-and-response. And then after a couple seconds, she realized it was less of a call-and-response and more of a dance, moving with the other person's movements. It wasn't nearly as hard as she thought it would be, not when she stopped trying to think it through, like Ferb had said.

Isabella's panic flipped into something else. She was still bristling with nervous energy, but this time… this time is was _amazing_. It was a flittery nervousness that would have made her smile if her mouth weren't otherwise occupied.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and started to kiss him a little more aggressively. She realized when he'd told her to be softer, he meant for her to be less rigid; but he didn't appear to have any problem with her molding her lips to his now with more fervor.

Her body was against his, and her mind was reeling. Her hand slid from his neck to his cheek and up into his hair, so she could hold him to her as she caught his bottom lip in between hers, and a small noise escaped the back of her throat.

Ferb suddenly stepped back, gently pushing her away when she had instinctively tried to step forward. She blinked up at him in surprise, but he was doing that weird thing where he would look off to the side. It was like he was trying to avoid letting her see his face, but it was kind of pointless. No matter which way he turned, there was no mistaking how red he was.

The crippling insecurity started creeping back in, and it saturated her voice as she weakly asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

But she'd never seen him so extraordinarily _ruffled_ before, and that was enough to chase the worst of her insecurity away almost as quickly as it came.

He seemed to remember she'd asked him a question, because he started shaking his head. When he cleared his throat and stuttered, "No! No—you've got it," the rest of her insecurity vanished entirely.

She hadn't done something wrong. Once she'd pushed herself past her shock and how new it all was, she'd kissed him _well;_ she'd been able to feel it. In fact, she could tell she'd kissed him _very_ well.

Maybe too well, considering he was only trying to help her.

It had been quite a nice first kiss, though…

"I didn't expect that to be so easy," fell right out of her mouth, and he looked away again. She kind of wished he didn't feel like he had to do that all the time; she liked it when he looked at her.

He answered with a mute nod, and this was finally settling for her.

"You kissed me," she said because she needed to say it, and now her words were coming out in something absurdly close to laughter. "Oh my god, Ferb. You just _kissed_ me."

He turned on his heel and cradled his forehead in his hand, and his voice was grim as he said, "Yes I did."

There was so much to decipher in his tone, but before she could even try, two words broke free from her heart and into to air: "Thank you."

Her voice had been soft, impossibly quiet, but he'd heard her. His spine went straight, his head shooting up. He half-turned toward her, his expression baffled.

"…What?"

"Thank you," she repeated. Shyness nipped at her bones, but she banished it in the wake of that earnest gaze of his. It drew the truth right out of her. "I was freaking out, but now… Now I'm not scared anymore. Not even a little bit. That was so _easy_ , and I never even knew it."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she could tell he was struggling to believe her, so she lunged forward and hugged him from behind. She was so grateful! Grateful for that knack of his to always make her feel comfortable. She didn't know how she would ever live without him, really. Her whole life would fall apart.

She gave him a final squeeze before detaching and reaching for his hand.

"I think I can do this now!" she said with a cheerful smile. "I totally think I can go right back down there and get this over with."

He silently nodded again, but since he was still so red, Isabella smiled as she pulled him on.

When she crept back down the basement stairs, every eye was on her. _Great._ And to make it doubly great, Adyson was standing at the bottom of the steps, tapping her foot impatiently.

Her expression, however, didn't match her posture; while her body hinted at impatience, her face had the most cat-like smirk Isabella had ever seen.

"So did you find _relief?_ " she purred.

Isabella stared at her blankly. Until—right! Relief. _Bathroom._ Her excuse for sprinting away like a lunatic.

"Er—yeah. Yup."

Isabella could have sworn Adyson muttered, "I _bet_ you did," as she headed back into the room, but she couldn't be sure, and she really wasn't positive she wanted to be.

"Don't think you're getting out of this!" Thaddeus laughed from the corner. "You've still got to pick someone."

Katie and Holly looked like they were trying really hard not to laugh. Curse them. Ginger looked sympathetic. Gretchen was staring down at the popsicle stick in her hand with a deep and depressed frown. And Adyson… Adyson still had that Cheshire grin as her gaze flicked up to Ferb and back to her again, and Isabella was positively bristling. She felt like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Well come on, then!" Thaddeus called out, and Isabella felt a spark of nervousness again as she tripped into the center of the room.

Suddenly, this seemed _way_ harder than she expected. She looked at Phineas, who was staring right back at her with a lopsided smile. How was she supposed to say it? _Hey, Phineas, let me kiss you._ Yeah, that hadn't exactly worked for her the past decade; how was she supposed to do that now?

She may even have chosen to kiss Ferb again if that wouldn't raise way too many questions. At least that would have been easy! Everything was so easy with Ferb.

She didn't even know what to say to Phineas, and now he stood up straight like something just occurred to him.

"Hey, if you're nervous, Iz, I'll kiss you!" the redhead said, and Isabella froze entirely. She was trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. He'd _kiss_ her? Was he _volunteering?_

"What?" tumbled out of her mouth, and Phineas nodded animatedly, bringing his fist down in his palm.

"Sure! Then it won't be weird! You know, 'cuz I'm jus me! An you're _you._ So it wouldn't be weird."

He was slurring. Did that make kissing him now, like, taking advantage of a drunk person? But he was offering. The only problem was she knew he was offering like a friend doing another friend a favor. She was pretty sure he meant he would kiss her so she didn't have to worry about anything that wasn't platonic with someone else.

"O…kay?" she said, because she had _no freaking idea_ what else to do, and Phineas bounded over. He almost fell to the side when he stopped in front of her, but she steadied him by his shoulders. As she did, he reached up and poked her nose.

" _Boop,"_ he laughed.

Oh my god, this felt like taking advantage of a six-year-old.

He seemed to center himself and regain his balance, and he leaned forward, puckering his lips. That was when she started to freak out again _._ Kissing Phineas? Here? _Now?_ Like _this?_

The only thing that kept her sane were Ferb's words replaying through her head. _Relax. Don't forget to breathe. You've got it_ _._ So she inhaled slowly, exhaled, and took his face.

She kissed him. And then it was done. He was pulling back with a grin and shrugged proudly.

"See? Easy peasy lemon squeezey! Nothin to be worried about."

Isabella blinked at him. She… she was still trying to figure out what the hell that _was._ Because even though her experience was extremely limited, she couldn't quite say it felt like a kiss. At least, it definitely hadn't felt like her first kiss.

She glanced to Ferb for guidance—but he was adamantly looking away. In fact, he was frowning down at a drink he hadn't had before, his fingers tight over the bottle. His popsicle stick for the round was clenched in one of his hands as he leaned against the couch, and with that frown on his face, there was nothing Isabella wanted to do more than rush to him and hug him and stroke his hair until he was smiling again.

"Isabella's done," Phineas said, and when she turned back to him, she saw he was holding his hand up, one curved finger extended above his fist, like he were imitating having a fake pirate hook hand. "She's off the hook!"

He apparently thought that was hilarious, and she held him steady again as he careened forward into her shoulder and started giggling. Over his head, Isabella was met with the inquisitive faces off all her girls.

 _How was it?_ they all seemed to expectantly say.

Isabella shrugged. It was literally the only answer she could give. It was… it just _was._ This would require a lot of thought, but now definitely wasn't the time or place for it. She looked at Ginger, her expression saying _help!_

Thankfully, Ginger came forward, peeled Phineas off of her, and helped him sit down.

Adyson—reckless and often tactless, sure, but still a good friend—read Isabella's face and didn't let the moment flounder. She shot to her feet and said, "Well, that's only one down, right! Number nine, you're up! Let's go, people! I want to see a little action!"

Poor Gretchen was number nine, and she looked _mortified._ Maybe even more mortified than Isabella had been. Isabella wasn't even so sure she would do it; but, like all members of her old troop, they had courage grafted into every single bone. With slow, hesitant movements, Gretchen crossed over to Django.

"This will undoubtedly be the least awkward of all my options," she muttered with regret dripping from each word. "I apologize _profusely."_

Thankfully Django had always been easy-going (which was probably why the ever-strategizing Gretchen had chosen him), so he just shrugged with a relaxed smile.

"Whatever."

Gretchen nodded and let out a breath—before grabbing his collar, whipping him around into a low dip, and delivering a merciless kiss that Isabella was 100% sure would knock his freaking socks off. She could see it written in his posture. Gretchen was studious, but Isabella knew she wasn't as timid as most people assumed.

Then Gretchen released him, deposited him back in his seat, pushed her glasses back up her nose, and quietly shuffled back over to her spot on the couch. Every eye followed her. Every jaw was on the floor. Django looked like he'd blown a fuse. From somewhere behind them, Isabella could have sworn she heard Buford say, "I am _so_ in love with her right now," though she really hoped she was wrong.

Personally, Isabella always knew Gretchen had it in her.

"Man, thirteen has a hell of a tough act to follow," Adyson hooted, fanning her face in mock-titillation; but as the King, she was determined to keep things on track. "Who is it, then?"

No one answered, and Isabella looked around the room. Was someone trying to avoid it? Ooo, if she had to do it, they needed to fess up!

It took her a moment to realize all the gazes were focused in one direction, and she turned around to follow it.

Everyone seemed to be looking at Ferb. He was still leaning casually on the corner of the couch looking down at his drink, but now his other hand was lifted. He was twirling his popsicle stick in his fingers. On the third rotation, she finally saw it.

Lucky number thirteen.

Isabella went very, very still. He could have freaking _told her_ he was the third person! Did that mean she would have to watch him kiss another girl? Would he kiss _her_ again? Both potentials made her feel lightheaded—though, for admittedly different reasons.

"Fer-erb!" Adyson cooed, and for some reason, she turned a cheeky grin on Isabella just like she had when they'd both come back into the room. Like she anticipated mischief.

Okay, so maybe her assumption wasn't completely unfounded. Ferb had kissed her already, after all. But he had only been teaching her how to kiss. He'd been _helping_ her. He was her best friend, and he'd always done whatever he could to comfort her. He'd taken all her anxiety about her first kiss and transformed it into a glowing warmth. He was always doing something like that.

But…

She'd _liked_ kissing him. A lot.

That was when she realized Ferb was watching her intently now, too. He'd put his drink down, but he was still flipping his popsicle stick between his fingers. His gaze was _piercing,_ and Isabella felt her face pulse with warmth. That didn't get any better when her girls started giggling behind her, in full view of how he was looking at her.

He wouldn't kiss her, though. The first time… it was to save her from having her first kiss be horrendously awkward and potentially soul-crushing. He had been protecting her from that. So he'd been her first kiss instead, subtly nudging her in the right direction until she knew what she was doing.

At least, that was how she had to think of it. Ferb didn't _like_ her. He couldn't. If he did… If he did, she…

He was inebriated.

That fact collapsed back into Isabella's mind with swift and cruel fury. She realized she couldn't read into anything tonight, because reserved, protective Ferb was a few drinks into this; and he'd always had the tendency to be her guardian angel.

The simple answer was that the alcohol had taken his usual reflex of coming to her aid and delivered a super out-there way for him to do that tonight. That was it.

Because if he liked her…

Ferb looked down at the popsicle stick in his hand. It had finally gone still, and she could practically feel the growing interest of her friends. They were all wondering what Ferb would do—and they were watching with rapt attention when he suddenly stood up.

"Fuck it," she heard him mutter as he tossed his stick to the side. She was honestly wondering if she'd heard him correctly—but he was already in front of her, one hand pulling her to him and the other holding her face, and when his lips came against hers, _claiming_ them, she was overwhelmed by how much want she felt in his movements.

It took about half a second for Isabella to think a number of things: Ferb was kissing her. For the second time. He'd chosen to. In front of all their friends. In front of Phineas. Phineas, whom she'd kissed. Kissed, but not like _this._ And everyone was watching. Watching her kiss _Ferb._ Ferb, who wasn't Phineas. Who was a really good kisser. Is this okay?

It took the remaining half of the second for Isabella to think precisely one thing: _fuck it._

Her hands gripped his shirt and she leaned into him and she was kissing him just like she had before.

The thing was, only now did she realize he'd been holding back before. When this had happened in the hallway, he'd been showing her the ropes. Now he was showing her something else. Something she couldn't name—or that she _refused_ to name.

His teeth brushed her lower lip and he gently _sucked,_ and her eyes shot open in shock as she was mentally transported to that one day when he'd licked the honey off her finger. Her insides turned over themselves in bliss, and she honest to god almost moaned, but she swallowed it down at the very last second.

Her eyes fluttered closed again and her fingers twisted in his hair. She was arching into him, or maybe he was just leaning into her that much, but even with her back completely curved as she kissed him, all their lines were still touching. If she only leaned back about a half a foot more, they'd probably look kind of like that old World War II picture, with the sailor kissing the nurse.

No, this felt very different from kissing Phineas. Very, very different.

When she kissed Phineas, he'd felt like Phineas—which was to say a bit abrupt, innocent, almost childlike.

This felt like _Ferb:_ warm and easy and incredible and exciting. Except warm was now sliding to _hot._ Easy to dangerously easy, as she bit at his lip this time and he held her even tighter. Incredible and exciting could only begin to describe the coil of heat and giddiness she felt in her stomach, and it only got worse, with the way he was kissing her.

 _Did he actually want her?_ God, it felt like he did! She hadn't been prepared for this, and she'd given in to it far more readily than she could have imagined.

Isabella had all but forgotten where they were—when Phineas' laugh cut through the deathly silent space. It was so startling she and Ferb snapped apart, and she paled as she stared at… the giggling _wreck_ that was Phineas Flynn.

"Holy crap, I did _not_ see that one coming!" he chocked out, his eyes tearing as he slapped his knee, he was laughing so hard. " _Wow!_ "

It took a minute for Phineas to realize he'd interrupted, and he straightened up.

"Oh hey, don' lemme stop you, amigos!" He flicked his hands at them. "Go, go. Have at it. Imma sit down, though. I was _not_ 'specting _that._ "

From the look on everyone's faces, Isabella figured no one else had been "specting" that, either. Hell, even _she_ hadn't! And it was so unlike Ferb to place himself center stage; but he was continuing to do just that as he took her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and place a kissed on her knuckles.

He had the most strangely triumphant smile on his face when he stepped back. While Isabella felt embarrassed beyond all belief, Ferb was showing none of that as he strolled back to where he'd been before he'd kissed her, reclaimed his drink, and smirked like nothing weird had happened at all.

Feeling the mounting attention on her now—she was still frozen with her hand lifted in the position he'd held it—Isabella snapped her hand back to her chest. She was blushing, she knew it. And of course she was! This was all too much.

She scurried back to the edge of the crowd, keeping her face down. Really, she was just hoping to conceal her goofy smile. She had to work really hard to keep her gaze on her toes as she sat down beside Ferb, instead of letting it flick up to his face. She wasn't sure how to handle that smirk of his right now. Fuck, she didn't know how to handle _any of this._

She had to admit, though: it was _really_ hard to focus on King's Game again after that.

The group started thinning out, but most of them would just crash here in the basement. That was part of the agreement when the alcohol was provided. Those whose parents weren't planning on picking them up had to stay. Linda had offered at the beginning of the night, but Phineas insisted they'd probably stay regardless.

When they started losing players, King's Game fizzled, but it was 2:30 in the morning anyway. Adyson put on a chick flick—Buford groaned and complained, but they all knew he secretly enjoyed it—and they started setting up a horde of blankets and pillows.

Poor Phineas was already passed out in the corner, so Isabella had checked to make sure he was fine, draped a blanket over him, and let him be.

Movie-watching couldn't really compare to the prospect of getting some sleep, and none of them pretended to be interested in the film. They adjourned to their separate sides, usually with the girls and guys grouped together to appease the more sensitive parents—but just as Isabella was ready to dive into her waiting pile of blankets, two arms caught her around her waist.

Isabella squeaked in shock as she backed up into Ferb's chest, and he quietly exhaled, " _Isabella_ ," against her neck.

"You should lie down, Ferb," she told him, ignoring the shiver up her spine. She could feel the gaze of every non-sleeping person in the room turn on them. She was a freaking _spectacle_ tonight (and maybe the worse part is she didn't mind it). At least Isabella was used to being the center of attention.

To her surprise, Ferb did as she suggested; but he lied down right where she'd made up her personal bed for the evening. Heat flared through her again, but before she could say anything, he reached up for her hand and pulled her down, too.

Just like that, she found herself curled up with Ferb.

"You are even more incorrigible with alcohol than you are sober," she grumbled, shifting slightly so he was practically spooning her. "Have you lost your mind tonight?"

She felt his warm breath against her skin as he let out a soft laugh.

"No. I'm simply not as worried or anxious as I usually am."

 _Anxious?_ Ferb always seemed so calm to her, a ballast in every storm. The idea that he could be anxious, and around _her_ of all people…

"Like you usually are?" she questioned, and he nodded.

"I like not having to be responsible," he hummed into her hair—before pressing his lips against a spot just behind her ear. Isabella felt herself flush all the way to her roots, _unbelievably_ affected, and he chuckled. "I like seeing _that_ , too."

Judging by the embarrassed look on Gretchen's face, Isabella knew everything they said could be heard right now; this was _so_ not private! So she went for a humorous approach.

"You are _so_ drunk right now."

He shook his head, nuzzling a little bit closer into her neck as he did, and she was dizzy when his lips brushed against her again.

"No, love. I'm just happy."

Milly and Katie froze now, and Holly did a second later. She caught Baljeet's eye too, who was shaking his head with mirth like he couldn't believe what she'd gotten herself into.

" _Ferb_ ," she groaned, feeling immensely mortified that this was so _public._ As if the kiss wouldn't have been enough to give everyone the wrong ideas, now he was cuddling her and acting all goofy and… calling her love…

That was the second time tonight. She knew it was the alcohol, she _knew it._ He'd never called her anything but Isabella before. He was actually the only person she knew who always used her full name. But he'd most certainly never called her love before.

"You're happy too," he muttered, and Isabella's breath caught. Alcohol made him shockingly honest.

"Ferb—"

"You're just too shy to admit it. Kind of like how I've always been too shy with you—but I guess that's different."

 _Dangerously honest._

"Ferb, you should sleep. Really."

But he was shaking his head, rather adamantly. It was enough for her to turn around in his hold, and she resorted to one of the proven ways she knew to make him crash: she started running her fingers through his hair.

It was instant: he practically melted as his eyes fell shut, and a content sound rumbled in his chest. She'd put him to sleep more times than one like this—though this time, he seemed to be fighting it.

"But when I wake up, things will be back to normal," he whispered. "And I'm _happy_."

"I'm always happy with you," she said gently. "That's not going to change, Ferb. Go to sleep."

She feared that wasn't what he'd been getting at. Isabella wasn't stupid, after all. Blind, apparently—but not stupid. But she couldn't think about this right now. Most certainly not with all her friends watching their little show like the world's best reality TV series.

She could see it now: _The Ferbella Show, a story of epic emotional frustration by_ all _parties involved. Tune in for the next decade to watch her pine after his brother while he is literally her whole life, quietly making things work from the background._

This was what her friends' expressions suggested, and Isabella buried her face in Ferb's chest. She couldn't really bear to see them anymore.

This… this wasn't what any of them thought. Ferb was her best friend! And he knew she always had her hopes set on Phineas. Ferb and she were as close as close could get, and this was only an extension of that. A drunken extension that was just… a little more _extended_ than was typical. But that was okay!

She had to keep telling herself that.

Isabella closed her eyes, knowing that tomorrow, what Ferb had said would be true: that things would go back to how they usually were. She knew that was true because she knew Ferb would make sure of it. In an effort to preserve her happiness, he would act like everything was fine.

But for tonight, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, tightened his arms around her, and muttered something so sleepily she wasn't even sure what he said.

Maybe that was a good thing.

She wasn't delusional. She really wasn't. The truth was she had to believe it was the alcohol and his helpful instincts that led to that kiss—to both of them. And to all of the rest of this, too. She needed to think it was those drinks painting a misleading picture, and nothing more. She had to believe all of this was as a friend.

Because if he liked her… If he actually did, for real…

If Ferb liked her, Isabella wasn't so sure she could stop her heart from letting her _fall._

* * *

 _Review, please!_

 _Well, there you go! A lot happened here. I'm eager to hear from you all about what you think!_

 _I will try to go back to my previous update schedule of every 2-3 days; but of course if I can't see I can't see. Thank you so much for your patience with me. If I can see, I will totally post! Sound like a good deal?_

 _Again, thanks for reading my work._

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	8. Nineteen

_Hi everybody!_

 _The responses to the last chapter... oh my gosh. First of all, thank you so much for commenting! It makes me so happy and I just love hearing what you think, what you loved, what bummed you out; I love hearing how my words create feelings as you read them! So thank you so much for the reviews._

 _They were all pretty consistent: YAAAY for drunk Phineas, hot damn they kissed, poor Ferb is darling, and Isabella you sweet idiot, there's no way you can take that platonically! Get some, girl!_

 _Hahahaha you have no idea how much that amused me. I just want to clarify: Isabella didn't think he was kissing her as a_ _friend, but she was trying to convince herself that was all it was. She's struggle bussing with processing all of this hah._

 _I have nothing new to say about my health other than neuritis sucks. Let that be said. It really sucks. It's a good thing I had this whole story written because I can hardly read or write right now!_

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

NINETEEN

* * *

"Nuh uh, Isabella. Nope! Can't do it. Sorry." Phineas adamantly shook his head, waving his hands back and forth, and Isabella stuck her lip out in a pout.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I have nothing against the idea, it's just—" he let out a loud huff. "You _know..."_

"It's just a piercing," Isabella told him. "It's not a medical needle, Phin. It doesn't count."

Needles. The one weakness in the impenetrable fortress of boldness and bravery that was Phineas Flynn. He'd spent a whole week once coming up with a completely new form of a measles vaccination just so he could avoid a single shot.

"Oh, it counts," he said darkly, and Isabella laughed as she took his arm.

"You've used sewing needles. How is this any different?"

Phineas' face flushed a color that nearly matched his hair. "Well, sewing needles aren't meant to go _through_ skin! But piercing needles? Well, it's in the name! And you know what that name is? _Nope._ "

Isabella frowned as he gathered up his backpack, and together they left their Introduction to Diplomacy class and headed back onto campus. It was so sunny today, positively perfect weather, but Isabella was feeling gloomy.

She'd been hoping Phineas would go with her to get her belly button pierced. She'd had her ears pierced since she was nine, but that was where her mother drew the line. No other piercings but the one in each lobe, at least so long as she lived under her parents' roof. But Isabella could make her own decisions now, and considering it was the end of their first semester and it was looking like she'd have straight A's, she thought she owed it to herself to do something a little rebellious.

Besides, it wasn't like a piercing was permanent. If she didn't like it or if it was too much maintenance, she could always let it close up. It was far more temporary than getting a tattoo. So why not?

Now, however, Isabella was questioning herself. She was thinking Phineas would keep her company, maybe hold her hand. Maybe he'd be impressed with the small purple jewel she had her mind set on. Maybe he would _actually_ notice she no longer had the body of a ten-year-old.

Yes, she knew it was hopeless with Phineas. They would never be together, she was wholly aware. But if she gave up, that meant she would need to move on. And if she moved on, that would mean jumping off a cliff into something totally unknown. It could mean actually letting someone else hold her heart; because even though Isabella had been offering it since she was ten, she'd still always held it herself.

But if she moved on… If she _let_ herself fall…

Liking Phineas was _safe._ It was everything she knew. It didn't make her feel anxious or make her heart race or make her do stupid stuff like make out with someone in front your whole friend group and then spoon them all night. Only for them to act the _exact same friendly way_ _they always had_ before—probably in an attempt to preserve their friendship—the next morning and every day since, like it never even happened.

Liking Phineas meant being able to ignore people who made you do stupid stuff. Like stare at them and remember what kissing them felt like and wonder why the hell they were acting so normal—only they _weren't_ because that person was now going _out of his way_ , it seemed, to be strictly platonic, like not touching her, _ever,_ even though that had always been the norm between them.

Trying to like Phineas meant being able to pretend she could get a certain someone that she refused to name out of her head.

Yes, liking him was safe. Even if it was a lie.

"I just—" Phineas shuddered, "can't. I can't go! You know I'm usually down for anything, but—"

"I get it," she sighed, picking at her sleeves. If he didn't want to go with her, he didn't want to go with her. She wasn't up for trying too hard. She'd let it go.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it!" he quickly added. "But if you're looking for someone to hold your hand or something, that might be kind of hard with me passed out on the floor."

The mental image actually made her laugh.

"Yeah, okay. Good point." She bit her lip, and the most horrible thing happened: she was weak and said, "Maybe Ferb will go with me..."

Phineas snorted. "Of course he will. You know Ferb."

"I wouldn't want to bother him, though. You know he has that test this week and that project and—I mean, I don't even know how he pulls it all off! I don't want to add to it just because I'm a wimp, you know?"

"Nah, you can't look at it that way," Phineas said as they stepped up onto a curb. "Ferb will do anything for you, Isabella."

"That's exaggerating."

"No it's not," he laughed. "You _know_ I'm right."

She opened her mouth to shoot off a retort. Then she closed it again. Finally: "Alright, maybe. But when you say it like that, it sounds like something it's not, Phineas. It sounds..."

"Committed?" he offered, and Isabella internally groaned. Yes, it sounded committed, but she knew Phineas meant that in a completely different way than she did. He surely meant it in a friendly, don't-we-all-love-each-other, sibling way. At least, that was how she was convinced he meant everything, after this long.

"Yes," she grumbled.

After a minute, he said, "Well, it _is_ committed."

Isabella let out a breath, deciding she just had to take the plunge and explain it.

"But when you say it that way it sounds like... you know. Like _more._ And it's not more, Phineas. It's not like that."

She wasn't even sure if he'd understand what she was getting at; but then he smiled the most strangely devious smile, and Isabella realized with a start that he _did._

"We both know it is."

And that was when the ground fell out from underneath her. Red-hot embarrassment shot up her spine, and her face flushed.

" _What?"_

"Oh, it's totally like that!" He burst into laughter. "Come on, Isabella! What, do you think I'm blind?"

"Yes!" she declared, smacking her hand against her forehead. "As a matter of fact, I _do_."

He shrugged. "Fine, but even a blind man could see it."

"There's nothing _to_ see, Phineas, I swear Ferb is just—"

"You've kissed, right?"

"Oh my god, Phin, no! I mean, yes, but if you recall, I also kissed _you_ that night. It was a game!"

"It was so not the same," he laughed. "And I've seen all the times you watch him."

" _Watch_ him? I don't—"

"Yes you do."

"But it's not—"

"Yes it is."

"But—"

"Denial."

 _GAAAAHHHHHHHHI_ This was what it was _always_ like to argue with Phineas! There was just no winning with this kid— _no matter how wrong he was!_

"Phineas—"

"Literally nothing you say will convince me otherwise."

"What if I said I liked you?"

She just… blurted it out. Just like that. Right here, as they strolled through campus commons. And of all responses Phineas could give, he smirked at her.

"Come on, Isabella. That's not true, but even if it were, I'd still say not as much as Ferb. And we both know it."

Not as much as Ferb _._ Oh, Phin. Isabella threw her head back, letting the sun warm her face as she thought. This all rather turned on its head, didn't it… She'd accepted Phineas would never come around, and—most shockingly—she was absolutely fine with that; but for _this_ to be the conclusion he'd come to?

(She was terrified, absolutely terrified that he could be right. But he wasn't _._ _He wasn't.)_

"I mean, are you saying you wouldn't do anything for him?"

Phineas' question yanked her out of the sky and pulled her back down to earth.

"I—no. I mean yes! I—of course, I'd do anything for him. I'd do anything for _you._ I just—you have the wrong idea!"

"No I don't. You are completely and totally in love with him."

"Phin—"

"And you call me blind. _Seriously,_ Isabella. I keep telling him that since you haven't yet, but—"

Isabella froze where she stood, and it took Phineas a second to realize she'd stopped. He looked back at her, and he cringed at her thunderstruck expression.

Phineas… what? Was completely convinced she loved Ferb? And had been _telling Ferb that?_

Was that why Ferb had been more distant around her? Or trying to act so normal, as if Phineas _weren't_ telling him these sorts of things?

"What'd he say?" she exhaled. "I mean, how did he respond, when you told him I loved him?

Now Phineas grinned, because of course she couldn't help but sound anxious. She _was_ anxious. And the scariest part is she wasn't even sure she could put words to _why._

"You mean, did he say he loved you, too?" Phineas asked cheekily, and Isabella blew out a breath in frustration. Ignoring the heat in her face, she made to march resolutely past the dumb redhead, but he caught her arm, and when she looked at him, he was surprisingly serious.

"You should ask him, you know," he told her. "To go with you. You know you want him there, and Ferb would—"

Someone cleared their throat, and they both turned to see Ferb cruising to a stop on his bike. At first Isabella had to tell her heart to hush when she saw him. Then, as always, she had to choke down a giggle when she saw him on his bike. It reminded her of that ridiculous time he'd pedaled all the way to their school while she sat on the bookbag rack behind him, both of them in formal wear for that silly eight grade dance.

Ferb dismounted and started walking beside them, tilting his head in a way that said, _ask me what?_

"If you would go with Isabella while she gets her belly button pierced," Phineas said. "She wants someone to hold her hand, and I think everyone here knows you're just the guy for the job."

Just like that, and Isabella was _mortified._ She wasn't sure if she would have invited Ferb. She knew there wasn't a logical reason she shouldn't, it was just... Well, alright, maybe Isabella thought Ferb did way too much for her. And ever since they graduated… no, no, no, she couldn't trust her heart when she was around him. He tugged on it too much.

Ferb was always there for her. _Always._ He just kept saving her life, over and over and over again. She didn't want to burden him. She was competent and strong; she shouldn't need him to keep swooping in to save her day.

Maybe, more than anything, Isabella was mortified because she knew she actually did need him swooping in to save her. She needed Ferb so much; but she didn't need another tick in their ledger to prove that.

And maybe… maybe she needed to try to create more space between them. He seemed to be doing that too, right? A lot. Because of that kiss—those kisses—and the gentle way he casually touched her and how he looked at her and the fact that it _affects_ her and oh my gosh, _breathe, Isabella._

"You're free, right?" Phineas probed. "I know _I_ definitely can't go with her, but she shouldn't go alone."

Ferb slowly looked from Phineas to Isabella, and she was infinitely surprised to see him frantically shake his head.

 _No?_

Had Ferb ever said no to helping her before? And also… when had she become so used to him always being there that, for once, hearing him say no made her whole world feel like it was about to shatter?

Seriously! It was the strangest and most inexplicable thing ever, but just that shake of his head, and Isabella felt the most fragile that she ever had. Why did she feel like she was about to cry? It was ridiculous! But this hurt a million times worse than Phineas telling her no. Maybe because that was more expected from Phineas after all this time, whereas it wasn't from Ferb?

Or maybe because she wanted him there more than she was willing to admit.

"Oh," came out of her mouth in a barely audible puff and Phineas—cheerful, always-smiling _Phineas_ —sent one hell of a frown at his brother.

"You finished your project early and we could pass our physics test in our sleep. I _know_ you don't have anything else planned today, we just talked about it!"

Ferb shot a look to Phineas that made Isabella hurt even more. Phineas had just called Ferb's excuse for what it was: that was what Ferb's look said. For some reason, he didn't want to go with her. He was blowing her off.

"Hey, that's cool," she said, but damn it, she couldn't get her voice not to shake, and it sounded anything but cool. She swallowed hard, and again, hoping she sounded surer when she said, "It's fine. I'll just go by myself, no big deal. Or maybe I won't. It's—not important. I'm fine."

She hastily promised to see them both later before taking off in the direction of her dorm. If she did start crying, she didn't want either of them to see it. It was ridiculous anyway! She was an adult and this was a stupid reason to cry. No, she refused. She was Isabella; she knew how to handle disappointment. This was no different.

She was almost off-campus when she registered the sound of racing footsteps, and a second later, Ferb came barreling to a stop beside her. He almost tripped and she was so stunned, but his hands came down on her shoulders as he caught his breath.

"Where's your bike?" she asked quietly—and as if in answer, Phineas zoomed right past them on the street, riding Ferb's bike. _Of course._

"Have fun!" Phineas called back to them before he banked onto another street, out of their sight.

Oh man. She hadn't meant to guilt Ferb into taking her! She especially didn't want him to go if it was some burden on him. Or if he was trying to avoid her.

"Ferb, you don't have to come with me!" she blurted out. "Seriously. You have stuff to do. Just—"

"I am yours for the entirety of the evening, Isabella," he told her, and her heart went _ka-thump_ in her chest. Why was it now infinitely more difficult to swallow than before?

"But you said—"

"I was being an idiot," he cut in, looping his arm through hers. He began to pull her on.

(It felt like he was pulling on her heart. She ordered it to shut up.)

"Where are we going?"

He snorted, shooting her an exasperated look. He motioned to her stomach, lifting en eyebrow in challenge as if to say, _You wanted a piercing, right?_

He was going to go with her. She wouldn't do this alone. Isabella felt things returning to normal, and now she couldn't help but smile.

"Alright!" she beamed, and now she was practically dragging him along beside her.

The body shop was only a twenty-minute walk from campus—probably why it was doing so well—and they made their way down. Ferb was pretty quiet. That was nothing new or strange for him, but it was enough to convince her not to ask why he'd initially declined coming. He wasn't afraid of needles like Phineas, after all; but she supposed what mattered most was that he was here.

There was only one person before her when they made it, and it was enough time for the nerves to set in.

"You have to hold my hand," she said, turning on Ferb and grabbing his arm. "I'm a wimp when it comes to pain, so you have to hold my hand the whole time, okay?"

He nodded mutely, and that was when they called her name. Her hand clamped down on his already, and they ushered her back into a room with a chair that looked oddly like the ones in dentist offices. After a couple measurements, she lied back in it and pulled her shirt up to her ribcage. Ferb's hand suddenly tightened on hers, and when she looked up at him, it was unfortunate timing, because that was when the clerk started cleaning her stomach.

"That's _cold!"_ she yelped, and she jumped so hard she bumped the lady. The clerk didn't look amused, but Ferb was; he started cracking up.

"Shut it, Fletcher! You can talk when you get _your_ belly-button pierced, you hear me?"

He continued to laugh anyway, and Isabella rolled her eyes. Dumb Brit. It would be so much easier to be mad at him if he wasn't saving her universe all the time. And if she didn't… Er, which she _didn't,_ of course. Her feelings for him were platonic. Yup. Strong, but platonic.

The clerk marked a spot on her naval. Then she gathered her tools, and Ferb said, "Look at me."

Isabella did, which was probably good. She may not have had a genuine phobia like Phineas, but she wasn't overly fond of needles, either. She held his gaze and refused to look at anything else.

She'd kind of missed looking into these soft blue eyes. They turned away from her way too often these days.

Then... it was done, and Isabella squealed from the pain. She nearly tore Ferb's hand off, and she could feel her face go red with her effort not to make any more noise. This stung like a bitch! But then again… she'd never had the highest pain tolerance. Her heart had always been tougher than her skin.

"You did it," Ferb said, running his fingers up through her hair while the clerk cleaned around the piercing and Isabella whimpered as she waited for the stinging to fade.

"Ow," she muttered pathetically. She still had a vice-grip on his hand, and when she met Ferb's eyes, they both burst into laughter—which only made it sting even worse! "Oh, ow! _Ow!"_

But she couldn't stop laughing, even as Ferb took her second hand and pulled her up out of the chair. He drew her face into his chest, and she continued to laugh or cry or whatever the hell she was doing until that pinchy feeling lessened to a dull, ignorable throb.

"Thanks, Ferb," she sniffed, and as he nodded against her, she said, "Phineas would have been on the floor by now."

He scoffed and muttered, "True," before pulling back and gesturing to the mirror behind her.

 _Oh!_ Isabella couldn't believe it had taken her this long to see it! She scrambled around the chair and pulled her shirt up again.

Huh. Wow. She thought that little purple jewel looked pretty damn good, if she did say so herself. It was silly, but she felt _so_ cool now—kind of like that badass feeling you get when wearing fingerless gloves. Coolness came with the territory.

She turned on her heel to Ferb, still holding her shirt up.

"Well? What do you think?"

He lifted his hand, pressing his fingers to his mouth like he didn't know quite what to say. Isabella waited, and eventually—finally—he nodded.

He _nodded?_ What the hell kind of response was that?

"Seriously?" she laughed. "What does that even mean?"

He gestured vaguely at her before burying his mouth in his fingers again, and Isabella felt her unease rising. Did it look bad? Was _that_ what this response was? He almost looked taken aback.

"Ferb?" she questioned, her voice small, and he looked up from her stomach. She knew he could tell he was worrying her, and he plunged his hands into his pockets as he sharply looked away. Was he blushing?

"It looks fine," he muttered, and that combined with that blush changed everything. Isabella smirked and took one step closer, confidence swelling in her as she leaned so she could meet his eyes. He avoided her at first, but when that proved futile, he finally caved. When their gazes connected, her smirk turned into a full smile.

"Only _fine,_ Ferb?"

He looked away again and nodded, and there was something so strange and shocking and wonderful about realizing that Ferb... Ferb was _flustered._ He was looking at her, and he was flustered, and for once, it looked like _he_ was the one that needed help.

And she thought he could only leave _her_ that way…

"Well that sucks," she said, looking down at the piercing with a casual tilt of her head. "I was hoping for a little bit better than 'fine,' you know? I was hoping for _sexy._ Don't you think it's sexy, Ferb?"

She was teasing him now. Maybe it wasn't nice of her, but she couldn't resist. It was just so… unexpected. Unexpected, and gratifying. She glanced back up at him through her eyelashes, and he looked like he was trying not to blow a fuse.

Seeing it almost made _her_ blow a fuse.

Finally, he managed, "It's... _incredibly_ attractive, Isabella."

Isabella could only blink at him. She'd felt so confident when she realized he was struggling to compliment her, and now that he had, her mind was melting. That was all that was left: a hot, nebulous ooze of embarrassment and flattery and agonizing confusion, all pent up in her head. She hadn't expected him to actually come out and say it.

 _Attractive._

She could see it now, in his face: that he was attracted to her. It was the way he'd looked at her at Adyson's graduation party. It was the way she only now realized he'd looked at her so many times since then—though he'd been trying so hard not to.

Was _that_ why he'd said no to her about coming? So he wouldn't have to struggle with that startling fact? Holding her hand, seeing her exposed stomach; she'd been completely latched onto him. Oh, Ferb…

"Phineas will probably love it," he added on quietly, and something in the statement made her heart hurt.

"I want to know if _you_ love it."

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she was actually happy about that fact. His gaze flicked up to hers again and she thought maybe he was experiencing the same agonizing confusion that she was. He seemed at a complete loss for what to say.

"Because you know…" Isabella continued, "I think your opinion matters more to me than anyone in the world. It's kind of a crazy thing to realize." She was the one to look down this time, pursing her lips. "It does, though."

The silence stretched into a chasm between them, and Isabella stared resolutely at her feet. She could feel the heat in her face, and she had no idea how to handle it!

Because Ferb… Ferb had become the brightest light in her world. God, she didn't know how to handle that, either. When did _that_ become true?

Ferb took her chin and lifted it, and she nearly died right there on the spot. Her heart was beating so hard and fast it felt like it was tap-dancing against her sternum, and her newly pierced stomach flipped over itself. Isabella was intimately familiar with this sensation and it wasn't even the first time he'd created it, but never before had it wracked her body in such a powerful wave.

Oh god…

"I love it, Isabella," he told her, his usual confidence reemerging in those four simple words, and everything she thought she knew _broke._ Right there on the spot.

She turned on her heel, burying her mouth in her hands, and forced herself to breathe. _Breathe, Isabella._

 _This,_ precisely, was what she'd been trying to avoid!

She _wasn't_ in love with Ferb!

"Isabella?"

But god, even hearing him say her name…

When the fuck did it get this bad?

He took her shoulder, turning her as he pulled her into a hug, and as soon as she was in his arms, her heart whispered a response: _a long time ago, you idiot. Way to pay attention._

Karma was a bitch. She never thought she'd be the oblivious one.

"It's unfairly attractive," he admitted quietly, and she stepped forward the rest of the way so she was against him completely. It was almost involuntary, a magnetic force that pulled her as close to him as she could manage.

"Unfairly?" she questioned, and when he nodded into the top of her head, his meaning clicked. "Because… I've always liked Phineas?"

She felt him stiffen underneath her hands, which told her one thing: _yes._ Ferb had been trying to maintain boundaries. He'd been keenly restraining himself, in both word and action.

"Is that why you said no to coming with me at first?" she asked, her own voice much quieter now, too. "So I wouldn't put you through this?"

She heard the breath he let out, and while it wasn't much of an answer, it was enough, coming from Ferb.

Isabella took his shirt and pulled him down just enough that she could press her lips to his jaw. She could hear the air catch in his throat. His arms tightened around her, and she wondered… had he been waiting for her? Hoping? Things had become sort of _tense_ between them the past few years, but now she was honestly about to lose her mind.

But what about Phineas?

 _What about him?_ her mind answered. She knew it was right; and it was a strange and unfamiliar thing to her to have her heart and mind agree.

Isabella pulled back, and the look on Ferb's face when she did confirmed it. He was bright red, shell-shocked, and he had the goofiest smile. Even for the silent boy she knew, it said so much.

The clerk cleared her throat, and Isabella took it as a good excuse to step away from him. He must have been super stunned because he didn't make to follow; but she scurried over to the counter anyway.

"Guess that means your boyfriend likes it, huh?" the clerk laughed. "I don't even know him, and even I can tell that was, like, insta-boner for him."

Isabella didn't even bother to correct her. She'd gotten used to people mistaking Ferb for her boyfriend—ever since middle school, actually. Now she understood why.

How long, precisely, had their worlds revolved around each other?

Ferb finally caught up to her by the time she finished paying, and they stopped just outside the parlor so she could put her card back in her purse. She couldn't look at him, not even once, while she did, because she was still so embarrassed by what that lady had said. The part about Ferb's… well, the implication that he could be aroused by her.

It made her think about that time he'd gotten that splinter out of her finger: the delicious shiver he'd sent up her spine as he sucked the honey off. At seventeen she hadn't wanted to admit it, but she'd been incredibly aroused. Now here she was again with Ferb—she was _always_ with Ferb, it seemed—and the idea that she could arouse him was… arousing. _So_ arousing. She needed to _breathe_ , goddamn it, why was it so hard to do that today?

She realized he never really answered her last question about why he hadn't initially agreed to come with her, and while she had figured it out, she still wanted to put his mind at ease.

"For what it's worth, Ferb… I'm really happy you came."

She finally gained the courage to look back up at him, and when she did, that smirk of his was a punch to the heart. Maybe she never let herself appreciate how adorable it was. It was something she could feel inside, that smirk of his. She wondered how long it had been truly nestled in there. Even before the graduation party? Probably.

She exhaled slowly; and held her hand out to him.

It took him a moment to process her offer. He stared at it, then her face, there and back again, like he didn't understand. Oh, stupid, wondrously insecure Brit! Although… she had to admit, there was something satisfying about having to be the one to coach _him_ through something for a change.

"It still hurts," she told him, before gesturing to her piercing. "That means your part of the deal isn't over yet, Fletcher. I still need your help."

A smile slowly crept across his face. He reached over and laced his fingers with hers, but his voice was teasing as he said, "It still hurts, huh?"

Isabella nodded, grinning at the world as they began to walk.

"Exactly."

Ferb snorted. "And here I thought you just wanted to hold my hand."

"Oh no. No, you know me, Ferb: a straight shooter with a low pain tolerance. No ulterior motives here."

"Of course," he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked away. She could see he was blushing again, and it was _amazing._

"I'm also a psychic," she giggled, swaying their arms gently between them, and he tilted his head in amusement.

"Oh?"

Isabella nodded again. "Yup. And something tells me my piercing's going to hurt all the way home. So you better not shirk your responsibility here."

Ferb laughed—as in a full, _real_ laugh, one that scooped all of Isabella's insides up and heated them to about a thousand degrees. She hadn't heard that in a little while. His fingers tightened their hold on her own, and she almost felt ready to faint, she was so astonishingly giddy right now.

Isabella was convinced she must be losing her mind; but if this was insanity, maybe it wasn't so bad. Glancing back over to her best friend, she knew it wasn't.

He caught her gaze, and she wondered if he knew what she'd been thinking; he knew her so well, after all.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he hummed, lifting their entwined hands up like he needed to see it to believe it. With a bemused shake of his head, he let them drop again, but his grip didn't loosen. Not even a little bit. "I guess it's a good thing I'm here."

 _Story of my life._

"I think the theme of my entire existence is, 'good thing Ferb is here,'" she confessed, and when he looked at her with shining eyes, Isabella knew instantly.

She knew she'd lied to herself.

Because standing in front of that mirror, showing off her piercing and having him look at her like he had… Isabella swore to herself then and there that she wasn't in love with Ferb.

And even further before that, when she'd been walking with Phineas. She'd promised things between Ferb and her weren't romantic, and he'd laughed. _We both know it is._ Phineas' response replayed through her head, but she'd still insisted it wasn't. She didn't love Ferb; she couldn't be in love with him.

Every single day for the eight months since they graduated, Isabella swore to herself she wasn't in love with him.

She had to keep telling herself that, every time she saw him.

Every time he looked at her.

Every time they talked.

Every time he said her name.

 _I'm not in love with him,_ she'd convinced herself.

But as Ferb swung their hands between them and began humming one of her favorite tunes—the song from the video he'd made for her for her quinceañera—Isabella finally admitted to her herself that she'd been wrong all along.

* * *

 _Review, please!_

 _There you go, my darling Spazzumtard! Only one more chapter to go, and my present to you will be complete! I hope you're liking it!_

 _To everyone else that has been kind enough to read this, too: see you in a couple days!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


	9. Twenty

_Hi there!_

 _Here we are, already at the end of this story! I hope you all have enjoyed it!_

 _Most of all *trumpet fanfare* to our dear Spazzumtard! Your gift is finally complete! I hope you enjoy this final bow on this Ferbella package! And Spazz says she likes my silly poetry... so I totally put that to use in this chapter XD I hope you're entertained by that, too!_

 _(And I'm relieved, because now I can update for my other stories!)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

TWENTY

* * *

"I know I'm a genius, love, but I refuse to calculate the kinetic viscosity of this _completely_ theoretical liquid without the use of my calculator!"

Isabella didn't care; she ran, coveted calculator in hand, around the back of the couch. She held it out of Ferb's reach as he followed her, and she squealed when he caught her around the waist. She _loved_ it.

"Isabella!"

"No!" she cried, though her capture was inevitable; she was laughing too hard to keep this up. She still tried to horde his calculator, even as he held her to him—but he picked her right up off the ground.

"Ferb!" she yelped, flailing in his arms, until he dumped her over the back of the couch onto the cushions below. She was so surprised, he easily plucked the calculator from her hands.

"Ferb!" she laughed again. "You're no fun!"

He folded his arms on the back of the couch and grinned down at her. He was so gosh darn cute! That smile seeped under her skin, wrapped happy little ribbons around her heart, and finished it off with a bow. All she wanted to do was lean up and kiss him!

But she couldn't.

Because they weren't even dating.

Because he was an idiot with really, really, _really_ bad timing.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be working on homework?" Phineas asked, and Isabella sat up. She hadn't even noticed the younger brother. He was by the door, coat on, and he was patting his pockets as if searching for keys. When he found them on the counter, he plucked the keys up and grinned at them. "Doesn't look like homework to me."

Ferb threw his arms out toward Isabella, his expression easily implying, _I would be, if it weren't for the calculator thief!_ It made her giggle.

"I would've been working on it if Ferb hadn't been chasing me. It's his fault."

Ferb's eyes narrowed into an incredulous glare, and it was with a smug smirk that she reached up and closed his mouth with two fingers.

"Are you sure this is what you want to be doing tonight?" Phineas asked, completely unperturbed by his brother's incredulity.

Exactly what Isabella had been thinking! She didn't need a fancy dinner—restaurants were _crazy_ tonight—or flowers or chocolate. She didn't actually need anything more than what they were doing: staying at home, being together. But she wished it had a different intent behind it. She wished they weren't just doing this as "friends."

"It's Valentine's Day," Phineas probed a little bit more, silently nudging Ferb with his gaze. It was so obvious; his eyes were practically screaming, _Do or say something, you idiot!_ at his brother.

Ferb stared blankly on, and Isabella knew what he was thinking; he was struggling with how to respond. He'd done that ever since he'd gotten back from Britain.

Yes indeed, Isabella finally realized she loved him; and once that piece fell into place, Isabella fell _hard_ along with it. She'd been utterly swept up in the wake of that stunning completed puzzle. Everything he had ever been to her had solidified into a sense of love and longing so strong she couldn't even comprehend it. Everything she did, everything she wanted, _everything,_ led back to Ferb Fletcher.

And as soon as that startling fact swallowed her whole, _of course_ the stupid idiot went abroad for his second semester of college. She was left here, at their college, without him. Isabella had been _miserable._

Phineas hung out with her a lot. _A lot,_ a lot. They'd both lost their best friend, after all. In fact, she spent more uninterrupted time with Phineas, one on one with no other distractions, than she had in her entire life; and the cruel irony was that all she could think about was his brother.

She loved Phineas, of course. But she was in love with Ferb on a whole different level. He truly was her Person: capital P, to demark the singularity that he was in her life. He was Ferb, simple as that, and not even all this time with Phineas could make up for his loss.

She couldn't blame him for going, exactly. The entire second semester's tuition was covered if he did, since he got the offer to study abroad by some engineering company where his grandpa had once worked.

A whole semester's tuition to travel and build professional relationships and gain job experience—yeah, Isabella wasn't judging him for going. As much as it sucked for her, she pushed him to go.

He always lived for her, after all. He was always so damn selfless. So this time, Isabella didn't give him the option to be selfless. He _needed_ to be selfish, at least in this regard. And if he needed a little push to get him there, then Isabella would do that with a smile—even if it killed her inside.

She'd encouraged him to go, and only cried about it once he was gone.

From what she could tell, he'd cleaned up. He got a ton of job offers for when he finished school—so many he'd video called her the day before he was due to fly home with a wide-eyed stare, completely overwhelmed by his looming future. It was coming so fast, and she could tell that was scaring him a bit.

She'd talked to him for hours that night, like so many others, but that one time was better: she got to tell him "See you tomorrow." She could hardly sleep, she'd been so excited.

So no, Isabella couldn't blame him. His timing sucked. Really sucked. But she wasn't mad that he went.

She was mad because he hadn't asked her out before he left; nor had he managed to after.

 _Not yet_ , she promised herself determinedly. Because he was _hers,_ even if he hadn't had the guts to make it official yet. But seriously, this was getting _really_ ridiculous.

She didn't know if it was a confidence thing, or maybe a Phineas thing, or maybe he was in a state of total denial about her feelings for him? But even though she came over every night and grabbed lunch with him almost every day and was texting him each moment in between… Ferb had yet to ask her out!

Officially.

As in, he had yet to kiss her (because they had so many date-like outings, but she couldn't call them _dates_ because he was being so _distant_ and she really wanted to _kiss him_ , but again: _distant,_ and _uuuggggggghhhhhh_ it was like as soon as they tiptoed into the "more than friends" realm, he just... shut down. And pushed her away).

The frustration was real.

"I'm a pretty smart guy, but you two _really_ confuse me," Phineas muttered—loudly, with no discretion. He wanted Ferb to hear him.

Ferb pursed his lips and looked away, not meeting either of their eyes, and seeing it was enough to draw Isabella up from where he'd dropped her on the couch. She crossed around it and took his arm. There was no way he could avoid looking at her, now that she was wrapping his arm around her shoulders and nuzzling into his side.

"I don't really care what we're doing," she smiled prettily at Ferb and batted her eyelashes, "as long as we're spending time together, right, Ferb?"

He swallowed hard, and it took him a second before he managed to nod.

She'd flustered him. Point: Isabella!

She freaking _loved_ when she flustered him, and she'd succeeded in doing so more and more frequently. Seeing it was a reminder that he felt that way about her; and at this point, she'd take what she could get.

"What Ferb meant to say was that he just wants to spend time with you too!" Phineas laughed, and Ferb glared at him.

"I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself," he grumbled, but Phineas only smiled.

"Great! Use that skill to tell Isabella a few things—you know, a few important things you really need to tell her. I'll see you guys later!"

He opened the door and was halfway out, when Isabella called, "Wait, Phin! Where are you going?"

"Out," he responded simply, popping his head back in the door, and curiosity bubbled up in her.

She felt even more giddy as she cooed, "Oooo, Phineas, do you have a Valentine's date?"

Phineas burst into laughter. "What? No, I don't have any plans." At their confused expressions, he gave a wink. "But you two don't need me here, right? So you'll have the place to yourselves. All alone. Just to the two of you. _Ferb._ Seriously. Don't make me hurt you. Anyways, have fuu-uuun!"

He sang the last word until the door closed behind him, and Isabella was left to stare at it as her mouth popped open into a happy little smile.

God, Phineas was the _best._

She turned her full attention back onto Ferb, and when he continued to gape awkwardly at the door, his brain still probably imploding from all the implications in his brother's words, Isabella vowed that she wouldn't let him avoid this any longer. Tonight would be the night.

Seeing the opportunity for what it was, Isabella pushed up onto her toes and, cupping his cheek, pressed her lips to his temple.

"Well, you heard him," she hummed, trailing her finger down his arm as she stepped back. "Looks like you're stuck with me as your Valentine's date, Ferb."

She'd pretty much lost the ability to control herself around him. It was everything she could do not to jump him most the time; so she couldn't help but flirt, and she flirted _hard._ Stealing his calculator was just the tip of the iceberg; she was amazed she hadn't fried his brain by now.

He didn't meet her eyes as he said, "Well thanks to a certain someone, I still have a kinetic viscosity to calculate."

"Keep on talking so nerdy to me, Fletcher, and I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

This, at the very least, got him to smile; she could see it as he crossed back to the front of the couch. He picked up his pencil and studied his physics book, and she wondered if he knew exactly how true her statement was.

She was completely, astonishingly, irreparably head over heels for this geek.

She supposed she had homework too, though. She picked up a rather dense textbook—its density captured in its title: _A Complete History of Global Negotiations_ —and made to sit next to him.

She didn't sit next to him, though.

"Ferb, you didn't leave enough room for me."

He looked up from the notebook where he'd been jotting down equations and lifted his eyebrow; he flicked his wrist out as if to say, _There's the whole couch._

But he was sitting up now, and that was all Isabella needed. She hadn't been looking for room on the couch, after all.

Textbook in hand, Isabella lounged across his lap. Only when her head rested perfectly against his shoulder, her cheek against his collarbone, her book open to her current chapter, did she say, "Perfect. Thanks, love."

She made it a few paragraphs in before she realized he hadn't moved even an inch. She blinked up at him, and found him staring down at her, bright red and incredibly flustered.

Point two: Isabella.

"Well you've called me love," she justified, figuring that was the cause of this look. "I thought I'd give it a try."

With a smile, she went back to reading her book, and it took a few more paragraphs before he finally responded.

"I'm never going to finish this assignment, am I?"

Isabella bit her lip. She watched him as his eyes followed the movement, and she'd never wanted to kiss him more.

"It's the weekend anyway," she said, closing her own book and discarding it on the table.

He must have been able to read the look in her eyes, because he quickly looked away and exhaled, "Isabella…"

"Ferb," she answered evenly.

If he loved her as long as she suspected he did, she didn't understand why she had to try this hard. He had to know how she felt about him, right? She hadn't exactly been subtle.

But, then again, maybe it was precisely because he'd loved her for so long without her even knowing how to reciprocate that he was so worked up about all of this. She was rewriting the entire code of their relationship; and even though she loved him so much, he had yet to reboot.

She reached up to run her fingers along his cheek, but he caught her hand mid-way. Although he held it for a second, he quickly deposited it back on her stomach. He had that careful purse to his lips, and just like that, she felt all the doors to his soul snap shut.

No.

No, you know what?

Isabella loved him too much; she wasn't putting up with this anymore.

She pushed off his lap and sat beside him, specifically so she could meet his eyes.

"Why do you have this wall up around me?" she demanded, right then and there.

He blinked at her, clearly taken aback. It took him a beat to answer; and when he did, at least he didn't stoop so low as to deny he had a wall up. He knew he did. So he saved her the denial; but he fed her nonsense instead.

"It's… habit," he said quietly.

"That's bullshit, Ferb. I have over ten years of evidence saying that's not habit at all."

He shrugged and looked away, but—goddamn it—she took his face and _made him look at her._

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't you look away from me _ever_ again, Ferb Fletcher. Never again! And it's not _habit._ "

His eyes blew wider than she'd ever seen, but she was on a roll, and she wouldn't be stopped.

"Habit is brushing against me all the time without faltering and habit's you reading my mind. Eating off my fork when I'm distracted and flopping over into my lap after a hard day so I can run my fingers through your hair. Habit is leaning on your arm during movies and you catching me every time I trip.

"But _this,_ " she ran her hands along his chest, took his shirt in her fists, held him to her so fiercely he wouldn't dare look away. " _This,_ you putting space between us, you not letting me into your mind— _this is not habit!_ This is _torture,_ Fletcher, and you know it just as well as I do!"

"Isabella," he sighed, rubbing at his forehead, and she knew he was going to start with the excuses, but she wouldn't be having it!

"No, Ferb. No matter what you say, you putting distance between us will _never_ be habit."

"But it is!" he cried out, shooting to his feet. "It _is_ habit, Isabella! _Not_ _having you_ is habit!"

He was pacing, pacing so quickly now, as he ran his hands manically through his hair—Isabella had never seen him like this.

"Taking the back seat, suppressing how I've always felt with you—that's habit! You've never felt that way about me! And when things were suddenly different because I was tipsy and stupid—and I had to _leave,_ and—"

"Ferb," she cut him off, and she left the couch to catch him as he paced. He went still, and his eyes were stormy as they met hers. He was killing himself over this: not being able to accept that something could actually happen between them. That she _wanted_ it to!

…Maybe waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to make the first move wasn't good enough anymore.

But before she could, he let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment, he released it and shook his head. He was deliberating, but she could tell he'd come to a decision, because then he said it: "Isabella, what about Phineas?"

Phineas? If she were being honest with herself, her crush on him had faded long ago—longer than she ever recognized, at the time. That silly crush could never measure up to the infallible ease of her existence when she was around Ferb. Even when she was only thirteen and crushing hard on Phineas, that ease had existed. Being around Ferb made her whole being feel at peace.

Ferb was probably the only person that she could be totally unguarded around. She could trip and cry ugly tears and it wouldn't matter. She could be silly and giddy and it'd make him smile. It wasn't some crazy fiery, electric passion like all the movies and books had promised, but it was something even better: it was the only relationship she had where being herself, fully and truly, was effortless.

The sparks followed from there.

It made her think about something Ferb had told her, when they'd danced together at her quinceañera. He'd been trying to get her to see that a boy that made her feel insecure and always second-guess herself wasn't really that singular, encompassing love she wanted so badly. With that one person, even when life was hard, existing with them was _easy._ You were swathed in security of self, and it was because you were with that person that you felt that way.

That was what being around Ferb felt like. And answering his question now was incredibly easy, too.

"Phineas is wonderful and amazing and _so_ fun to be around," she responded, watching him give a painful nod with each adjective. She took his shirt again, and when she couldn't pull him back to her, she stepped to him instead and looked him right in the eyes. "But I don't _love him,_ Ferb. I think you've known that for a while."

She hadn't expected him to start shaking his head, to actually take her hands and pull them off his shirt, like her touch burned him. He didn't meet her eyes when he next spoke.

"But you don't get it, Isabella. All this time, _I_ was the one that ruined your chances with Phineas. It was all my fault, and you never knew that."

Isabella pursed her lips. She didn't know what he was talking about, but it _sounded_ like…

"Are you saying you sabotaged my chances with Phineas?" That just didn't seem possible; obviously Ferb had always put her happiness first. More than he should have, the dolt!

She was relieved to see him adamantly shake his head; apparently the idea of his sabotage was just as preposterous to him as she felt it was.

"No! No, I never… _did_ anything. Not on purpose. It's just—" he sighed, "Isabella, Phineas always knew how I felt about you. He could tell. So…"

Isabella's eyes grew wide.

Phineas had been able to tell Ferb always had feelings for her… so he probably _never_ saw her as a potential romantic partner. He never would have, if he knew his older brother liked that girl.

"So Phineas _never_ would have…" she trailed off, and Ferb slowly nodded his head. Studying him, she could see the slight quiver to his form, the immense fog of fear that surrounded him; he was worried she'd hate him now, at this realization.

But when you loved someone as much as she loved him, it would take a whole hell of a lot more to get her to hate him.

"Well… good," she responded.

And to her surprise, Ferb immediately blurted out, " _Good?_ How is that possibly _good?_ I ruined what you always wanted, and—"

"Ferb," she cut him off again, "I don't want Phineas."

Because waiting wasn't good enough this time. She refused to wait any longer. She didn't even care anymore if she had to make the first move. She didn't need the reassurance of him taking that first step; she was entirely sure _._

"It's more than good, because I was never in love with Phineas. Not really. I know that I never was," she sucked in a breath, "now that I actually know what love is. Now that I can recognize it when I feel it!"

"You…" Ferb began, but emotion drowned out his voice. She nodded anyway, because she already knew what he was trying to say.

"What," she laughed, "you need some grand romantic gesture to prove it to you?"

He opened his mouth. Then he closed it again.

Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "That would be nice, actually. Yes."

She started laughing so hard that it almost wasn't possible for her to reach for his face, push up on her toes, and press her lips against his.

She could feel his shock in the curve of his mouth, but she swallowed his breathy gasp and kept kissing him anyway. He was too stunned to react at first, and she fought the urge to smile.

"Relax, Ferb," she told him, speaking against his lips. "You're trying to think about it, love, but just move instead. And don't forget to breathe."

It was the same advice he'd given her the first time he kissed her. She'd been too surprised to act then; and his soft words of instruction had been branded into her mind as she'd gained the courage to kiss him back.

His gentle laugh told her he recognized what she'd done, and he melted under her fingertips. His hands found her waist, and _finally_ he was kissing her like he actually meant it.

Oh fuck, she wasn't actually prepared for this. The heat of his lips, his hands on her, the intense longing she felt, how easy this was, how much she wanted even more of him. She was _not_ prepared to protect her heart from this; and he stole it.

No. She gave it to him. She needed him to have it.

Maybe he always had. He'd always protected it, after all.

She was the one to take things a little further. She had no idea what the hell she was doing, really; but it didn't seem that hard. She pushed him back down on the couch, and this time when she crawled onto his lap, it was so she was facing him.

Oh, his hands were on her legs now. And she liked being a little taller than him as she kissed him. Yup, this was an _excellent_ choice.

She was so into him that when he pulled back to say something, she started kissing a line down his jaw, too.

"This… isn't really happening, right?" he gasped. "This is just a dream, isn't it? I've had this dream before. I'm going to wake up, aren't I?"

She giggled at how endearing that was, and her nose nuzzled his as she shook her head. No, this wasn't a dream. She prayed to god it wasn't, because she wasn't sure she could muster the bravery to initiate this a second time.

"But… this is happening so fast. I haven't even told you I love you."

With a deep breath, Isabella pulled back enough that she could see him, eye to eye. Her hands held both of his cheeks, her thumbs running gentle trails across his skin.

"Ferb, you never needed to tell me. You've been silently telling me every single day since we were kids. I was just too dumb to listen."

His eyebrows rose, but she wasn't done.

"I'm the one who needs to tell you that I love you. And I do! I—" She let out a nervous laugh, and she folded forward, hiding her face against his neck. "I love you so much, Ferb. You're way more than my best friend, I just couldn't recognize it."

She felt his faltered breaths rising and falling beneath her. She felt the quick thrum of his heartbeat flutter along her eyelashes. She felt _him._

"You… _do?"_ came his quiet voice, and she sat up.

"Of course I do, you dumb Brit!" she exclaimed, smacking him in the chest. "I love you so much, it's— _ridiculous._ Do you even know how much I love you? And how freaking _hard_ I've been trying not to jump you?"

He blinked at her: at her furious frown, at the way she couldn't maintain it and it morphed into a giddy smile, at how she couldn't hide how much she adored him.

"So… this is for real," he realized, and she couldn't help it: she swooped back down and started to kiss him again. It had been too long; she was already addicted to this.

When she finally broke for air again, she declared, "Oh, it's real. You are _mine,_ and you better buckle up, because I am _not_ letting you go."

Finally, the shock faded from his face. It was replaced with a determined smirk—the same way he'd looked at her at Adyson's graduation party, when he'd closed the distance between them and kissed her so thoroughly he'd broken her mind.

"I think I can live with that," he responded. He leaned forward, but before his mouth was on hers, he hesitated just beyond her reach. His words were a whisper against her: "Happy Valentine's Day, Isabella."

God, did he even know the effect he had on her?

And then he was kissing her again, running his hands along her legs and hips and up her back and— _oh my god,_ this was incredible.

It was hours and hours later that they heard the keys in the door, and Isabella pushed on Ferb's chest, forcing him to sit up on his knees from where he'd been pretty much pinning her to the floor.

Yeah… the couch didn't have enough room, but everything else was too far. So… floor it was.

"Ferb!" she hissed under her breath as he looked down at her with heavy, entranced eyes. Damn his hair was messy, and he was fucking _sexy_ like this; but they didn't have time!

"Knock knock," Phineas called out, and she and Ferb untangled and scrambled to find his shirt.

And her shirt.

And her pants.

Dear lord, Isabella had been in _heaven._

"Uh—no! Phin!" she yelped. Panic made her voice high and breathy.

Or maybe that was just how Ferb had left her.

Thankfully, Phineas didn't open the door beyond a small crack. He wisely stayed in the hall, as if he knew exactly how this evening had turned out.

Maybe he wasn't as blind as she thought. He was blind, of course. But maybe not _terribly_ blind.

This must have been Phineas' plan all along, because from the other side of the door, he laughed, "I really hope I interrupted something."

Fuck, he did. He really, really did. She hoped he hadn't been listening at the door, because hearing the noises she'd been making would have been _really_ embarrassing!

Damn Brit. Ferb didn't seem to have any more comments about moving fast once they really let themselves go after each other. He didn't have anything else to say at all tonight, actually—beside quiet commands that made it a bit easier for his hands to roam.

If Phineas had heard her…

Why did Ferb have to be so good at _everything?_

She'd just gotten her pants back on when Ferb tossed her her shirt, and seconds later, she squeaked, "Uh…"

She had no idea if she should tell Phineas to come in. This was pretty… _obvious,_ after all.

"Finished?" came the redhead's dry question, and when she didn't respond, he must have taken that as an answer in itself. He pushed the rest of the door open and ambled inside.

"Hey guys!" He dumped his keys and coat on the counter—neat Phineas was _not_ —and turned toward them with a grin. "Well you sure look like you had fun."

God, she could only imagine how she looked. Electric fire was still coursing under her skin. Her hair was frizzy and tangled. Her clothing was a bit rumpled. She was flustered and devastatingly over-stimulated.

 _Damn Brit._

"Homework," Ferb said with a surprisingly casual shrug—Isabella had no idea how he managed—but Phineas' grin turned downright devious.

"Yeah. Of course. Homework." He crossed all the way to his room, saying, "Well don't let me stop you!" with a sweep of his hand. But half a second after he'd strolled inside his bedroom, he poked his head back out. "By the way, Ferb, your shirt's on backwards."

And then he let his door close, and Isabella was left to stare at it as her jaw dropped open.

Slowly, she turned toward Ferb. His hair was _so_ messy… which made sense. She'd always had a thing for running her fingers through it. And, just like Phineas pointed out, his shirt was indeed on backwards. It was just one of his pajama t-shirts, easily mistaken when they were in a hurry, and now they were both cracking up.

They were so horrendously overt that even _Phineas_ was instantly left with no doubts.

"Way to go, Ferb," she hummed, sauntering up to him, and he pursed his lips as he watched her. She ran her hands up his chest and decided, "I suppose we need a little practice, hm?"

His face flushed the most brilliant pink, and her insides skipped. Honestly, how could he possibly be shy now? _Now,_ when only minutes ago he'd so readily been making her moan? Oh, Ferb.

She bit her lip as she watched him. He was studying her in equal measure, and she could see the shock churning there. Maybe the past few hours were finally settling in. Maybe it was something else.

"What?" she finally breathed, unable to fight her smile any longer; it stole across her face as she blinked up at him.

Slowly, Ferb shook his head. "I can't believe you're looking at me like that."

Damn, his words were phonic heat that pooled deep within her; it was _everything_ she could do not to throw herself on him and find a way to make him believe it.

But he was still her goofy smartass of a best friend, and she wouldn't be letting him off that easy.

"Hey, I've been looking at you like this a lot, Fletcher. It's not my fault if you never saw it!"

"You're one to talk," he teased, and somewhere along the line, their laughter turned into another kiss.

Isabella honestly had no way to know what to expect: going from best friends for so long and transitioning, somehow, into intimate partners. She hadn't been sure how that would go, and when Ferb was acting so squeamish and distant, she'd been nervous.

She should have known being physical with him would just sort of… fall into place. It was _Ferb._ Even if something embarrassing happened—and she knew if was bound to, because she was so astoundingly inexperienced—she knew there really wasn't anyone else she could ever be more comfortable with. If she had to blunder through this with someone, at least it was with Ferb.

 _Ferb…_ her mind hummed as he bit at her lower lip, and she literally went weak in the knees. He held her up anyway, and that was when she knew she wouldn't be going home tonight.

They couldn't _do_ anything. At least, not anything that required protection; she wasn't prepared and she doubted Ferb was too, considering she'd ambushed him with all of this. But she wouldn't be leaving him tonight, either.

She rather liked kissing him standing up. She could be so close to him, and it reminded her of when he'd kissed her during his turn for King's Game. Thinking of that moment still made her giddy.

And if, while standing, she could press her hips against his and make his breath sputter off beat, make his fingers tighten on her and a gasp catch in his throat… well, that didn't hurt anything, either.

His bedroom was so familiar when they eventually stumbled into it. The semester he'd been gone, there were nights she'd crashed in here after finishing homework with Phineas. She'd missed him so much, and there had been something comforting about being amongst his things. She never did anything creepy like go through his drawers; she just lied in here hugging his pillow and breathed in the ghosts of his presence.

She remembered Ferb's astonished face the first time he'd video called her in the morning and woken her up in _his_ bed. She'd been embarrassed to admit she'd slept there because she missed him so much, but when he stared back at her with a half-flustered, half-pleased smile, she'd thought it had been worth it.

It was so much better getting to sleep in here with _Ferb_ , rather than the ghosts. She'd already been wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants; she had a designated set here for when they had homework nights. And of course he'd been more than willing to remove her bra… so she was practically in pajamas already.

She didn't exactly feel sleepy, though, and neither did he; and she had to say, this was _way_ better on a bed than it was on the floor.

It had to have been the early hours of the morning that she finally started to grow tired. It was hot in here, even after her pants had long been discarded again. Now Ferb held her to him, his legs entwined with her bare ones under the covers, and Isabella told herself to breathe.

Breathe. Think. Recover.

She was still reeling from his touch, and his smug smile in the dark told her he knew it.

"Oh my god, Ferb," she murmured sleepily against him, and his chest shook with silent laughter.

"You could get used to this?" he guessed, and she sighed contentedly.

"No, I already am. This is a thing. I'm a permanent fixture now, Ferb; you've got me hooked."

This time, his laugh filled what little space there was between them.

"Then you'll have to work on being _quieter_."

"Hey, that's _your_ fault," she giggled, tilting her head up to press her mouth against his one more time.

She woke up with him spooning her, which was incredibly similar to the morning when they'd woken up at Adyson's graduation party.

That morning, however, Ferb had scrambled back, apologized, and been silent for hours. It marked the start of a very long year of denying feelings, realizing feelings, and still having him try to act as platonic as possible.

This morning, though? She woke him up by straddling him, and when he opened one sleepy eye and _smiled—_ dear lord, Isabella's heart could barely take it! This morning marked the start of something she was going to do everything in her power to keep forever.

She hadn't been able to stay long since she had a group project she was meeting up with people for. She needed to shower and change and giggle to herself incessantly over how happy she was.

All day, she couldn't stop thinking about something, though: something Ferb had said. _That would be nice, actually. Yes._

He was probably teasing when he'd answered her that way, but she wanted to make some grand romantic gesture anyway. She wanted to _woo_ him. To make sure he knew she was so in this. Heaven knew after this long, he definitely deserved the effort.

She toiled away on her plan for a couple of hours. She stopped by the store. She got it all set up. And then she sent the text:

 _Hey, Ferb! I need your help with this stupid poetry assignment! If you want to come over, I'll provide the frozen pizza!_

It wasn't a lie, necessarily. It was a mistake she'd made at the start of semester and had regretted since: she'd signed up for a poetry class as one of her electives, having been promised an intriguing critical analysis of contemporary form. And she got that… in part. The other part of the class was actually _practicing_ contemporary form.

As in, _writing poetry._

As in, something Isabella _could not do._

So this wouldn't have been the first assignment Ferb had helped her with.

Ferb responded immediately that he'd be there, and she couldn't help but smile. _Of course he would_. Ferb was always there.

She had it all set up by the time he arrived. He looked a little shy when she let him in, probably uncertain what the protocol was now. What was allowed? Could they kiss all the time now, was she his girlfriend, did he have to watch for boundaries still?

As far as Isabella was concerned, the answers were yes, yes, and no, in that order; but they hadn't really talked about that yet, so they went about their business like they usually did.

It wasn't until they were making their way to her couch that he saw it: the heart-shaped box of chocolates and the stuffed bear (at least, she was fairly certain it was a bear; those damn things were pretty amorphous). There was a single rose and she'd even lit a pretty smelling candle.

"Isabella…" he said with a grin, eyeing the after-Valentine's Day clearance rejects, but she pushed him down on the couch.

"Hush! You promised to help me with my poetry assignment!"

"An assignment, hm?" he asked cheekily, but she opened her notebook to the page in question with a flourish.

"Yes! Now you have to listen to it, and—"

"Since when do you write the assignment before I'm here to help you?" he laughed, but she glared.

"Or I could _not_ read it."

He smirked and silently gestured for her to go on.

Right. Okay.

"Now you know I'm no poet," she prefaced and he snorted. "I mean it! You know I'm bad at poetry."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he told her.

"I'm serious, Ferb! Like, lower your expectations now, before I even begin."

He plucked the amorphous teddy bear-like creature off the table, holding it by its little heart-shaped paws. He grinned at it for a second, before turning it around and making it look at her.

"Read it," he said in a high voice that she thought maybe was supposed to belong to the bear?

"Oh my gosh, Ferb!" she laughed, but miraculously, she was less nervous. He was such a dork, it was ridiculous; and it made her feel better. "So it's… it's called _Knight in Silent Armor."_

He raised his eyebrow at her, so she buried her face in her notebook. God, there was no way she would have the guts to read this to him if she looked at him!

But she'd written this for him and she'd made the decision to do something silly and romantic for him, so she would do it, goddamn it, come hell or high water!

She cleared her throat; and began.

" _There once was a green-haired fella_

 _Who changed the life of young Isabella._

 _Never a soul could you meet_

 _That was ever so sweet_

 _In this story that I will tella._ "

She hesitated, waiting for any number of things he could tease her about. Her rhyming, for starters. The fact that she had to change and invent words just to make it work out. Or even the fact that, for an assignment supposedly for her _contemporary form_ poetry class, she'd written the whole thing as a series of limericks.

But Ferb didn't say anything. He made no noises of derision, and from her peripheries, she could tell he hadn't even moved. So she went on.

" _Ferb was a boy unlike any other;_

 _Isabella, a girl babysat by his mother._

 _Ferb was shy, he was bright,_

 _But out of her sight_

 _As she pined after his dear brother."_

This time, she stole the faintest glance at him. He was hugging that dumb bear to his chest, staring at her so intently she had to quickly bury her face in the notebook again.

It took her several swallows before she could keep reading.

" _One day he began to tug at her heart._

 _With quiet tongue, he was bold and smart_

 _And endeavored to woo with noblest of deeds._

 _With small acts of kindness, he planted the seeds_

 _And their friendship from there did start._

" _The brother, alas, was caught in his muses._

 _Unwittingly her fragile soul he abuses._

 _Devote and caught up in seizing the day,_

 _No time for the heart when boys are at play._

 _He leaves Isabella's love with bruises._

" _In comes her kind knight with hand extended,_

 _Soothing her attempts in life offended._

 _Holding her close, he knows her so well._

 _She stopped being stubborn and finally fell;_

 _And Isabella finds her heart has mended._

" _So if ever you sink deep within woe_

 _Know never it shall always be so,_

 _For this bard knows well_

 _And Ferb's love does tell,_

 _Broken hearts can only grow."_

The notebook felt like a thousand-pound barrier between them when she finally finished; but despite its heaviness, she still couldn't convince her limbs to drop it. She was nervous to see his face, his reaction to her silly love poem.

But the whole point of this was about being brave, right? The damage was already done, so now she needed to face it. With one more breath, she peeked up over the paper at him.

He was still watching her carefully; and his eyes were _smoldering._ It was a look that stirred something inside of her, made her crave something she didn't yet have.

 _"_ Well... what do you think?" It couldn't have sounded more raw as it left her mouth. She supposed that made sense; never before had she put her heart this far out on the line. Ferb was _everything_ to her.

Ferb unlaced his fingers and pushed up from the couch. The bear tumbled to the side as he closed the distance between them, and her breath hitched as he took her face between his palms.

"All this because I said I'd like some grand romantic gesture?" he said quietly, and a shy grin curled at the corners of her mouth.

"Because I love you."

His whole face lit up as she said it. She believed he'd always been just as much of a romantic as she was; he'd just never really showed it.

When he pressed a soft, agonizingly wonderful kiss against her lips, a light, trilling sigh escaped from her heart. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back; but this was different from any kiss they'd shared before.

This one… this was testing the waters of something even more deeply intimate than what they'd achieved last night. This was a kiss with all cards on the table, a royal flush. It was gentle and tame and slow and purposeful, and it made every inch of her ache with want for him.

Who'd have ever thought they'd make it _here?_

If only her younger self could see her now.

"Your poetry is rubbish, love," Ferb murmured against her lips, and she pulled back just enough to deliver her playful glare.

"Well, it looks like it served its purpose, now didn't it?"

He hummed in agreement before hooking his hands under her thighs. She squealed as he lifted her, and he kissed her all the way until he deposited her on the couch.

She pulled that stupid bear out from underneath her and tossed it to the side, but then he was over her, laughing, kissing her, holding her and making her whole world feel bright.

Unfortunately, she actually did have a stupid poetry assignment she needed to write. But with Ferb smiling down at her like she was the most precious thing in the world…

Well, the rest of life would just have to wait.

* * *

 _Tadaaaaaaaa!_

 _Happy Valentine's Day, Spazzumtard!_

 _All my love,_

 _Lilly-Belle_


End file.
